


Dreams Once Remembered

by Chelsea Frew (chelseafrew)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Loss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Kidnapping, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg Harry, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, Therapy, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:48:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 78,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24525655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelseafrew/pseuds/Chelsea%20Frew
Summary: 16-year-old Harry Styles is on the verge of a life-changing moment. He has been put in a band onThe X-Factorand he and his new bandmates are about to get ready for a glorious adventure together. In one terrible moment, all of that is stolen from Harry.Kidnapped, Harry spends the next seven-and-a half-years in a twelve-by-twelve shed, suffering repeated assault at the hands of his captor. One of these assaults results in a daughter Harry has raised entirely on his own in the small space they call Room.Now that Darcy is five, Harry is determined that she be allowed to experience the real world, and he devises a plan for them to escape.Should they escape, there are many questions. Can Darcy adjust to the outside world? Can Harry start over? What kind of relationship, if any, can he have with the band that moved on without him?Even with success far from assured, Harry knows he has to take a chance. For him, and for his little girl.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 58
Kudos: 374
Collections: One Direction Big Bang Round 3





	Dreams Once Remembered

**Author's Note:**

> This story was born from my absolute obsession with first the book _Room_ , written by Emma Donaghue, then the movie of the same name, also written by Ms. Donaghue and starring Brie Larson and Jacob Tremblay. It took me a few years to realise I could cross 1D with Room for a fic. I decided to make it my Big Bang this year. (I cannot more highly recommend both the book and the movie, available wherever books and movies are sold.)
> 
> It was not an easy piece to write, and near the end I ran right into the COVID-19 pandemic. Nonetheless, I managed to finish.
> 
> It is not an easy story, either. There's rape, an unplanned pregnancy, and kidnapping, all happening to a teenager (16 when kidnapped, 18 when pregnant). I think I have attached all the proper warnings, but I want there to be no question about the content. There is one memory of a rape, all other incidents are off-screen. The birth is discussed and remembered, but not detailed. If you have triggers, please be sure to read the warnings carefully.
> 
> The beautiful art in my story was done by [londonfoginacup](https://londonfoginacup.tumblr.com/). She did an amazing job rendering Harry, Louis, and Harry's daughter. Watch for her art as you move through the story!
> 
> Deepest thanks to my BFF for beta reading duty. As always, she has made my work better. Even more, she is the best cheerleader ever. Cori, you're the best!
> 
> I borrowed a lot of dialogue from the movie in the first half of the story, since it was all so beautiful, and I could not hope to better it, so if you've seen the movie, some of the dialogue may seem familiar. The title of my story is taken from my favourite Westlife song, _Miss You Nights_.
> 
> I hope you all are moved by Harry and Darcy's journey. I look forward to your feedback.
> 
> With no further ado, on to the story….

As was the case most mornings, Harry was awoken by the sensation of a tiny finger pressing into his cheek and the sound of a small voice whispering, "Papa. Papa."

Accepting that a new day had arrived was always difficult, but Harry forced his eyes open. Looking over to his left, he found Darcy looking back at him. She had a bright smile on her face as she announced, "It's my birthday, Papa. I'm five!"

Harry chuckled, gathering her into his arms. He pressed a half-dozen kisses into the chocolate brown curls on top of her head, making her giggle. "Are you sure? You don't feel any older than you did yesterday."

"I'm positive, Papa. I'm five," she insisted.

He kissed one of her chipmunk cheeks soundly. "Happy birthday, baby girl."

"I'm not a baby anymore," Darcy informed him in a haughty tone he knew could be traced directly back to him.

"I'm so sorry," Harry said quickly, tickling her sides. "You're my big girl now."

Darcy wiggled out of his arms, tumbled out of bed, and ran across the floor to the cabinet. She used her stool to reach the box of cereal and their two bowls. She set them on their rickety round table while Harry fetched the milk from the mini fridge.

After taking his _Day 8_ pill, Harry handed Darcy a chewy vitamin to eat.

Before pouring the cereal and milk, Harry told Darcy, "I have a surprise for you."

Darcy bounced up and down in her folding chair. "What is it?"

Harry stood up and fetched a small package from the top shelf of the wardrobe--a place Darcy couldn't reach. He handed the package to her. "It's a birthday present."

The five-year-old could barely wait a second before ripping open the newspaper wrapping to find a bracelet Harry had fashioned from string and some creatively repurposed twist-ties. She squealed with joy. "Put it on!" she demanded, holding out her wrist.

Harry dutifully complied, wishing all the while the bracelet was made from something infinitely more beautiful.

While Darcy fiddled with and admired her gift, Harry poured the cereal and milk.

Once she was eating, Harry asked her, "Do you know what we're going to do today?"

Darcy shook her head. "What, Papa?"

"We are going to make…a birthday cake."

"Like on TV?" she checked, clearly hoping the answer would be positive.

"Just like on TV, but for real," Harry assured her.

"No way!" Darcy declared, grinned from ear to ear.

Harry nodded, his grin reminiscent of hers.

When all the cereal was gone, Darcy washed the bowls and spoons in the sink while Harry ensured everything was put away.

After assuring her they would be making their cake after lunch, Harry kept them to their usual morning routine. They did Exercise--including Stretching and Track--Cartoons on TV, and School. Darcy was a very willing student. They were currently working on reading and geometry.

In the late morning, Harry prepared an early lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches (made in their creaky toaster oven), then it was time to bake the promised cake.

Using a recipe he knew by heart from Saturdays baking with his mum, Harry showed Darcy how to make a small vanilla cake they iced with a white glaze. Harry used the end of a knife to carve a number 5 on top of the cake. Finally, he placed the finished masterpiece in front of a hyper-excited Darcy.

"Now the candles!" Darcy squealed, clapping in anticipation.

It killed Harry to tell her, "I'm sorry, bug, there aren't any candles."

Darcy stopped clapping and looked up worriedly at Harry. "But it isn't a birthday cake without candles on fire."

"It's still a birthday cake," Harry insisted in as bright a voice as he could muster. "Look, it says five, just like you are."

Refusing to be placated, Darcy began to cry. "I want candles. You didn't even ask for any for Sunday Treat. You just asked for dumb pyjamas."

Gathering her into his arms, Harry explained, "I have to ask for things we need, not things we want. I'm so sorry, bug. I promise the cake will still taste wonderful, even without candles. Do you want to try some?"

"No!" she yelled, working herself up.

"How about just a bite?" he tried again.

"I said no!" Her scream was ear-piercing.

Without another word, Harry gathered her into his arms and breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly, and after a moment, she followed suit, beginning to calm down.

Into his arms, she whispered, "Next week, when I'm six, you need to ask for real candles."

Harry's heart clenched. "Next year, you mean."

Once she'd accepted that no candles were forthcoming, Darcy allowed herself to be coaxed into eating a piece of cake. She admitted, too, that Harry was right. It was still wonderful, even without candles.

After they'd eaten cake--making sure to leave some for later--Harry let Darcy choose how to spend the afternoon. She wanted to work on the maze they were building from aluminium foil and bath tissue rolls, then she picked her favourite book for Harry to read to her. They had a very small collection of books Ben had brought them, and one called _Fancy Nancy_ was one Darcy could listen to over and over and over.

By the time they got around to dinner, Darcy was exhausted, though that fact did not stop her from devouring the hot dog Harry heated up for her, then another small piece of cake. That used up all the rest of her energy, however, and she did not argue when Harry urged her into her pyjamas and into her makeshift bed in the wardrobe.

"Sing me a birthday song, Papa," she begged, batting her emerald green eyes at him for good measure.

Harry checked his watch. They had a little time. Time enough for just one song, maybe two, if he was quick.

Tucking her blanket up around her chin, Harry cleared his throat. Softly, then, he did a little riff on the traditional birthday song before singing _Isn't She Lovely_ , easily Darcy's favourite song. That he sang, anyway.

She fell asleep right before the end of the song. Regardless, Harry sang the tune all the way through, kissing her on the forehead when he was done.

The _beep beep_ signalling Ben's nightly visit came just as Harry was gingerly closing the wardrobe door.

He didn't even have time to be melancholy about Darcy turning a year older. Instead, he needed that brief amount of time to steel himself for everything Ben would ask of him. For someone with a lot of time on his hands, even Harry didn't have enough.

* * *

The next day, Harry found himself inexplicably tired and in need of a nap. He wasn't sure why he was so tired, given that it wasn't like he was expending a great deal of energy on anything, but he just figured it was general stress, and he went ahead and laid down for a bit.

As he was drifting back into consciousness, he could hear Darcy whispering, "Here you go, Mouse." She went silent for a few seconds, then, "Try it. It's delicious. That's it! Isn't it yummy?"

Harry wondered who the heck she was talking to. Had she invented a friend for herself? He absolutely couldn't have blamed her. Before Darcy had arrived, he'd certainly had his fair share of conversations with people who weren't really there. It had kept him from going completely crazy. Curious to see if this was also Darcy's coping mechanism, he blinked open his eyes to check out the scene.

Darcy was sitting on the floor in front of the small cabinet in the kitchen. With an exceptionally sweet smile, she was staring down toward the floor…at a tiny grey mouse. A very real tiny grey mouse. A mouse who was nibbling at some crumbs Darcy had no doubt put out for him, or her.

Without even thinking, Harry grabbed the nearest book--a dog-eared copy of _The Da Vinci Code_ \--and threw it at the mouse. As the mouse scrabbled away, no doubt headed for whatever hole he'd come in through, Darcy shot a look of pure betrayal in Harry's direction.

"Papa, you made him gone!" she needlessly pointed out. "He was a real live mouse."

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, Harry told her, "He was a real live mouse who was going to eat all our food."

"He can have my food. I'm not hungry, and he was my friend," Darcy reasoned, frowning at her father.

"He would have brought in germs and bit us in our sleep," Harry countered, moving to take their small brush and dustpan to clean up the leftover crumbs from the mouse's snack.

"You splattered him dead," Darcy stated in the most accusatory tone she could muster.

"No, I didn't," Harry assured her. "He's just fine, safe at home in the backyard with his papa."

Darcy wrinkled her brow in confusion. "What backyard? Mouse lives in a backyard in TV?"

Harry had not had enough sleep to deal with this. He grabbed the last of the aluminium foil from the container at the edge of the counter and handed it to the five-year-old, hoping to distract her. "Here. Make a UFO out of this."

For a moment, Darcy stared at the foil in her hand, clearly thinking through something.

Harry sighed and walked back to the bed, sitting down feeling way older than his twenty-three years.

Finally, Darcy was ready to share her thoughts. "If I can't have Mouse as a friend, maybe now I'm five, Ben can bring Lucky here to Room."

Harry issued another sigh. Lucky had been ever-present in Darcy's mind since she'd spied a beautiful golden retriever on the TV about a year before. She had been entranced, and she talked about him and drew him every chance she got.

"Darcy, we can't have a dog in here. There's not enough room…not enough space…for all the barking and the scratching," Harry tried to explain.

"Lucky won't scratch," Darcy insisted, eyes wide. "He promises."

"There is no Lucky," Harry said, already past irritated with this conversation.

Darcy stood to her full height and used her biggest voice. "Yes, there is!"

Harry hauled out his biggest voice, too. "No, there's not. You made him up in your head. He's not real."

Betrayal morphed into hurt, and Darcy began to cry. At first, the whimpers were small, then they grew exponentially into heaving sobs.

Harry felt like a monster. "Darcy, I'm sorry." He moved to gather her into his arms. They slid to the floor, and he held her while she cried. "I'm so sorry, bug. That wasn't very nice of Papa at all."

It took a while for her sobs to die down, and when they did, Darcy didn't bring Lucky up again.

Harry promised an extra half-hour of TV that evening, and that didn't even scratch the surface of what he owed Darcy in apology.

* * *

That evening, near the end of her extra half-hour, Darcy was flipping channels when Harry heard familiar voices emanating from the speakers. When Darcy poised the remote to switch stations again, Harry moved from where he'd been cleaning at the sink and grabbed the remote to keep the channel right where it was.

"Papa!" Darcy whined as Harry sat on the bed behind her.

"Shh," he commanded, not sparing her a look. His eyes were fixed on the screen.

Four young men sat on a couch, chatting to Graham Norton. They were all around Harry's age, and they were all very handsome, but Harry's gaze was fixed instantly on the young man at the end of the sofa--the one farthest away from Graham. Louis.

When Harry had first met Louis, his light brown hair had been just a little bit emo, his face had been a lot younger, and his jokes had been big. And it had taken no time at all for him to become Harry's favourite person in the world.

Seven and a half years on, and Louis' hair was done in a lovely quiff, his face was slightly more mature, but his jokes were still pretty big--at least according to his--their?--band mates.

Harry was well aware that watching the interview was incredibly masochistic, but it wasn't like he could turn it off. After all, Louis hadn't stopped being Harry's favourite person, even if Louis had completely moved on from Harry.

The band was there to promote their new CD, their sixth, entitled _Going Strong_. After talking to Liam, then Zayn, then Niall, Graham finally got to Louis, asking about their recording process.

As he often did when they ran across interviews with One Direction, Harry just let Louis' smooth voice wash over him. Sometimes, he was able to focus on the content of Louis' words, but more often than not, he just got lost in the Yorkshire accent and the quirky way Louis had of saying things. Not to mention Louis' piercing blue eyes and kissable lips.

This was one of those times.

After the interview and a break for advertisements, One Direction got up on Graham Norton's stage and sang their new single, _Stay Together_. It was a lively, gender-neutral tune Louis and Liam had written about hanging in there even through hard times. Harry predicted it would be a big hit.

When the credits rolled, Darcy begged, "Can we watch the cartoon planet now?"

Harry consulted his watch. He sighed heavily. Ben would be there in less than thirty minutes. "I'm sorry, bug. It's bedtime."

"Please?" she tried, again batting her green eyes like a pro.

Unfazed by the action, Harry shook his head. "Not tonight. In the morning. I promise."

After a dramatic flounce, Darcy moved to put on her nightgown, brush her teeth, and climb into her bed.

There was time for one song before lights out. Harry decided to pull out _What Makes You Beautiful,_ One Direction's first big hit.

That night, as Ben did his business, Harry projected himself out of his body and imagined himself on stage with the band, seamlessly adding his voice to _Stay Together_. It was, after all, the life he should have had. The life that was stolen.

* * *

The light coming through the skylight was grey and cold when Harry opened his eyes the following morning. Even as Darcy stirred next to him--as he usually did, he'd gone to fetch her after Ben left--Harry knew he couldn't cope with anything just then. He turned over to face the wall, pulled the thin duvet over his head, and closed his eyes.

When Darcy poked at him and whispered, "Papa, Papa, Papa," he ignored her.

He felt bad not paying her any attention. When she had been small, he had not been able to ignore her. She had needed him too much. Now that she was older, she could take care of herself for as long as he needed to work through his malaise.

Seeing One Direction on the telly was always a trigger, the harshest reminder of all that he'd lost. All he was missing. All that had been taken from him.

Just thinking about it sent a pain that was almost unbearable right to his heart, and the only way to get rid of it was to imagine a black box in his head and stuff every memory, every dream, and all the pain into the box, then close it tight. Once that was done, he allowed himself to drift away and pretend--just for a little while--that he wasn't where he was. That he didn't have a five-year-old to take care of in a twelve-by-twelve shed in a psycho's backyard.

For the rest of the morning, Harry alternated between sleeping and listening to Darcy entertain herself. It was something she had grown necessarily good at.

She began with some morning cartoons, but turned them off after not too long. Harry had a rule about too much television, and Darcy abided by the rule without too much argument. He supposed the image he'd given her of her brain rotting from too much television was a powerful one. Once the TV was off, Darcy pulled out the small dollhouse they'd been putting together since she was about three. They'd used empty boxes, tinfoil, and paper to fashion all the rooms a proper dollhouse needed, as well as a family of dolls with a mum, a dad, a daughter, and a son. It was one of Darcy's most cherished playthings.

She did the doll voices just like she did when Harry played with her. All of them were based on things she'd heard on TV, and Darcy walked them through their paces in the house, cleaning and doing exercise, much like the things she and Harry did every day in Room.

When she was bored with the dollhouse, she tried poking at Harry again, but he wasn't quite ready for interaction yet. With a heavy sigh, she moved to the shelf on the night table, pulling out another favourite picture book, _Corduroy_. She could read many of the words, and she made up the ones she didn't know as she read the book to herself. Three times.

She ran herself through an abbreviated version of their daily exercises--she skipped the push-ups and the sit-ups, the parts she didn't like--and then sat herself down at their table with her paper and crayons to draw.

As Darcy kept herself occupied, Harry worked on reminding himself that even if he was not where he was supposed to be, he still had a job to do. An incredibly important one. He had to see to it that Darcy was safe, loved, and taught everything he knew to teach her. It wasn't her fault she was stuck with Harry. She deserved everything it was in his power to give her.

With that in mind, as midday approached, Harry forced himself out of bed, shuffling over to stand behind where Darcy sat at the table. "So, what are you drawing today?"

Darcy swivelled her head to look back and up at him, a smile on her face. "I'm drawing all my pets." Having thus answered his question, she returned her attention to her art.

Harry checked out the creatures dotting the bottom of her piece of paper. "Which pets do you have here?"

She pointed as she explained, "This is my cat, Dora. This is my bird, Jabber. This is my fish, Swimmy. And this is Lucky." It was good to know she was still imagining Lucky after their argument the day before. He didn't want to kill her imagination. It was her greatest resource under their current circumstances.

"They all live on the grass?" Harry asked, running a finger along the green strip at the bottom of the page.

She nodded, then turned her attention back to her drawing, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on colouring in the sun in the sky with her well-worn yellow crayon.

"What about Swimmy? Doesn't Swimmy need water to…um…swim?"

Darcy frowned, thinking about what to do. Within seconds, she was taking the blue crayon in her hand and colouring a spot on top of the grass. "This is his pond."

Harry smiled and ruffled her hair. "Excellent."

While she finished her artwork, Harry set about putting together some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch. They even had some crisps left in the bag he'd been rationing out over the past two weeks.

Once lunch was over, Darcy curled up on the bed for a nap, exhausted by the morning of entertaining herself.

This left Harry with more than enough time to finish processing how he was feeling after his latest brush with his stolen future.

He could still remember every detail, as if it had happened yesterday, not quite eight years ago.

_He had just arrived back home from Boot Camp. It had been a roller coaster. He'd thought the initial audition process was a lot, but Boot Camp had been so much more. There had been dancing and singing, then not making it through to Judges' Houses--or so he'd thought. He and four other boys had been put together in a group, and that group was going through to Judges' Houses._

_It was the most exciting thing to happen to him in his entire sixteen years._

_He had just a week to get ready to host his new bandmates at Robin's cottage. They were charged with getting to know each other and practise singing together in advance of their trip to Spain to sing for Simon Cowell. They also needed to come up with a name for their band. None of these were small chores, though he had told Louis a few of his ideas for band names, and Harry hoped the other boys would like one of them enough to use it._

_He'd forced himself to get up early in the morning, made breakfast for himself and his mum--a natural early riser--then set out to walk into the heart of Holmes Chapel to start stocking up on supplies they might need at the cottage. His mum had offered to go with him, but he had told her he could go it alone. He was, after all, hot off a success in the big city of London._

_He had already gone by the bakery to say hello to his former co-workers and was on his way to his favourite sweet shop when a man with short dark hair and scruffy stubble approached him._

_"Young man," he said to Harry. "I'm wondering if you might be able to help me."_

_Harry was nothing if not kind, so he replied, "What can I do?"_

_"Well, I think my dog may be sick," the man explained. "I was hoping you might be able to give me a second opinion, then point me in the direction of a good animal hospital."_

_"Sure," Harry agreed._

_He followed the man down the street and down into an alley where a black pick-up truck was parked. The man pointed to the back of the truck, and Harry moved to check out the sick dog._

_The back of the truck, however, was empty. Harry started to look around the alley, worried the dog had jumped out while waiting for his owner to come back._

_Turning to the man, Harry started to say, "I think--" He never got to finish._

_The man slapped a cloth over his mouth, and Harry felt himself panic, then begin to pass out._

_When he woke up, he was laying on a twin bed in a small room. He was by himself and wildly confused. He had a headache from whatever he'd been knocked out with, and he gingerly raised himself up onto his elbows._

_In one corner of the room was a tiny kitchen, with a sink, a counter, a mini fridge, and a toaster oven. In the corner on the other side of the kitchen area was a bathtub. Along the wall opposite the bed was a toilet and a television. A wardrobe occupied the same wall as the head of the bed._

_Where the hell was he?_

Almost eight years later, and he was still in exactly the same place, his biggest accomplishment not that of being in one of the most successful boybands ever, but rather the small girl sleeping on the bed beside his chair.

It was massively unfair. He knew in his heart that he had been meant to be part of One Direction--the boys had, in fact, used one of Harry's ideas for the band's name--but Ben had stolen that. Stolen him.

The only good thing to have come out of all these years locked away was Darcy. He may not have been able to fulfill his true destiny, but he could do everything in his power to make sure Darcy had the best childhood he could give her under the circumstances. After all, he was all she had.

She gave him a reason to go on. A reason to keep living.

He crawled onto the bed and wrapped his body around his daughter's. He kissed the back of her head. "I love you," he whispered.

She wriggled her body toward him, pressing her back into his chest. He breathed her in and cuddled her closer. He might have been her world, but she was also his.

* * *

It was rare that Harry was awake before Darcy in the morning, but the morning following his Gone Day, Darcy was still out cold when the yellow-hued light streaming through the skylight woke Harry.

Silently, gingerly, Harry climbed over his slumbering five-year-old--five!--succeeding in not waking her. He collected a worn brown leather journal from the bookshelf which made up part of their rickety bedside table, carrying the journal to the round table they used for eating, writing, drawing, and game playing, among other things.

He had begged Ben for some kind of journal back in the first year of his captivity. At first, Ben had refused, but after much harassment from Harry, he had relented and brought Harry a cheap faux leather journal. What was even better was that as soon as Harry filled that first journal up, Ben had brought him a new one. The best was that Ben never asked to look at what Harry was writing down. It was a rare piece of privacy in a place where he had almost none.

As he finished a journal, he dated it and stuck it on the top shelf of the wardrobe, hiding it as best he could from his captor and Darcy, who was already becoming a great reader. Ben had so far been willing to bring Harry a new journal whenever he asked.

He opened his latest journal to the first page, deciding it was time to re-read what he'd written in the last six months or so.

Some of the pages of the journal were filled with entries cataloguing Harry's days in captivity, including notating Darcy's milestones. More pages, however, were filled with song lyrics. Some were melancholy, some were funny (or so he thought), some were romantic (and often about Louis), and some were about his experiences since Ben had stolen him.

In his fantasies, when he and Darcy were rescued, Harry would be able to find someone to help him write music to go with his lyrics, and he could perform the songs in bars and clubs, eventually becoming famous, just like he would be if he had been able to remain in the band.

He couldn't indulge in these fantasies with any amount of frequency. When he did, he often became depressed and unable to cope with Darcy and the things he needed to do to take care of her. Therefore, he doled these fantasies out to himself judiciously.

The last lyrics he had written were some of those melancholy ones:

_I want you here with me_

_Like how I pictured it_

_So I don't have to keep imagining_

_You're all I want_

_So much it's hurting_

That was all he had so far, but five lines did not a song make. Clicking his pen on, Harry wrote three more lines which seemed to fit.

_Come on, jump out at me_

_Come on, bring everything_

_Is it too much to ask for something great?_

He was just about to add more when a sleepy voice called to him. "Papa?"

With a sigh, Harry clicked the pen off and stuck it inside the page he'd been working on. Though he wished it wasn't true, he would have plenty of time to return to the song later. He stuck the book back on the shelf, then reached over to run a hand over Darcy's hair.

"Good morning, sleepy head. Ready for some breakfast?"

* * *

"Are you sure she doesn't have two heads?" Ben asked, handing over two bags of groceries.

Harry had to tamp down the hackles. As he put away the canned vegetables and boxes of generic-brand cereal, he answered, "She has just one head, thank you. You always come after her bedtime."

Ben settled into one of the well-worn folding chairs sitting at the table. "How old is she now?"

Among his many, many bad traits, Ben had a horrific memory. "She turned five two days ago," Harry informed him, stashing the dish soap in a low cabinet.

Ben frowned, as if truly put out. "You should have told me! I'd have bought her a present. What does she like? Dolls, unicorns, rainbows?"

Harry very nearly reminded Ben that Darcy's familiarity with all those things were limited to what she saw on TV and whatever Ben brought them, and he mostly stuck to food and clothes, the very occasional book thrown in for good measure. Instead, he simply said, "She's fine, thank you."

"Wait! I know!" Ben sprang from his seat and left the shed.

Harry set about folding some of the clothes he'd washed earlier in the day until Ben reappeared.

It was only a five-minute reprieve before Ben returned, a big red bag of Maltesers in his hand. He placed it on the table and smiled, proud of himself. "A treat for when she wakes up."

Harry's smile would, he knew, come across as fake. He didn't care. "Thanks. She'll like that."

Ben watched as Harry finished folding his and Darcy's clothes, then it was down to business.

Harry slid out of his jeans, dropped his pants, crawled onto the bed on all fours, then sent his mind elsewhere, anywhere that wasn't this bed, this shed, this moment.

* * *

There was a routine to the nights that Ben visited. Harry would give his body over to Ben for whatever Ben wanted for however long Ben wanted, then Ben would fall asleep for around an hour before leaving. When Harry had first been brought to the shed and Ben's visits were new and terrible, Harry had been unable to sleep until Ben left, if then.

Seven years on, Harry was often able to fall asleep when Ben did. He always woke up when Ben did, however, and he would fetch Darcy to sleep the rest of the night in bed with him.

That night, following their conversation about Darcy's birthday, it wasn't Ben lumbering out of bed which woke Harry. It was Darcy's high-pitched scream.

Harry was instantly awake. In the moonlight provided by the skylight, he could make out Darcy's terrified face as Ben reached a hand out to her.

Not even sparing a second to think, Harry reached out his own hand over Ben's body. He pushed Ben's hand away from Darcy before Ben could touch her. "Get away from her! Get away from her! Darcy, go! Don't touch her!"

Darcy began to cry as she ran back toward the safety of the wardrobe.

Darcy hadn't even made it back to her bed before Ben flipped Harry over and put his hands around Harry's neck, squeezing tight in an attempt to end Harry's screams. He moved to straddle Harry's middle, keeping his grip firm. Harry struggled to breathe, screeching for air.

"Shut up! Stop that noise!" Ben commanded, squeezing Harry's throat even tighter. "Stop it right now."

Harry immediately became silent, nodding to let Ben know he was willing to be compliant. After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, Ben lessened his grip enough that Harry was able to take in a gasping breath, then another.

"Don't you ever touch me like that again." Ben's voice was low, dangerous. "I'll kill you if you do."

Harry nodded again. "I won't. I just didn't think. I wanted you to leave her alone. You can do anything you want to me. I just want you to leave her alone."

Ben grunted and finally, blessedly crawled off the bed and pulled on pants and jeans. "Don't you ever, ever forget how you got her," he growled at Harry before storming away and out of the shed.

The door had barely shut behind Ben when Harry shot out of bed and fairly ran to the wardrobe, opening it to find a sobbing Darcy. She flew into his arms, and he carried her over to the bed, sitting on the edge, her perched on his lap.

"I'm sorry I came out of Wardrobe, Papa," she apologised between her sobs. "I promise I'll never do it again."

"It's okay, bug." He ran a soothing hand through her hair. "It's okay. He's gone. He's not going to hurt you."

"Did he hurt you, Papa?" Darcy asked.

Harry didn't know if she'd heard him gasping for breath when she'd escaped back to the wardrobe, but he didn't want to lie to her if she had. "He tried, but I'm okay."

She nodded her understanding, still crying, but with slightly less vigour than she had been. "I just wanted to see if he had the chocolate."

So, she had been awake for that part of his conversation with Ben. Harry sighed. "That's okay. He did say the chocolate was for you."

"I don't want it anymore," she proclaimed, though Harry was sure she would change her mind later.

"Come on, love," Harry whispered, reaching behind him to pull back the duvet. "Let's get some rest now."

Darcy allowed him to move so he could slip his body under the covers, taking her with him, her back against his chest. He tucked the duvet under Darcy's chin and gently stroked her arm.

Her sobs eventually faded away, though they left behind some hiccups that also needed a minute or two to dissipate. Finally, she relaxed in Harry's arms.

When she was calm, her breathing told Harry she was still awake. Harry began to sing a song his mother used to sing to him when he was small.

_One evening when the sun went down_

_And the jungle fire was burning_

_Down the tracks came a hobo hiking,_

_And he said, "Boys, I'm not turning._

_I'm headed for a land that's far away_

_Beside the crystal fountain._

_Oh come with me, we'll go and see_

_The big rock candy mountain."_

By the time Harry paused, Darcy's breathing had become deep and even, blessedly asleep after the evening's trauma. Harry heaved a sigh of relief, pulled her close, and drifted off to sleep himself. It had been a traumatic evening for him, too.

* * *

"Papa, I'm a dragon!" Darcy's excited voice woke him the next morning.

Harry tried with all his might to process her words, but they made no sense. He blinked his eyes open to look over at her. "What?"

"Look, Papa! I'm a dragon," she repeated. To demonstrate, she huffed out a breath. It curled white in the air.

Harry's heart constricted as he blew out his own breath. It curled white, too. He reached over Darcy to try the bedside lamp. When he tried the switch, nothing happened. Just as he'd suspected. "He's cut the power."

"The power?" Darcy questioned.

That was right. Ben hadn't cut the power in a very long time, but he had done so before when he was angry with Harry over something. Once it had been when Harry had refused to service him on account of not feeling well (it turned out he was pregnant). And once he'd shut off the power when Harry had made an escape attempt when Darcy was about three. Of course, Darcy didn't remember that.

Harry sighed, resigning himself to the situation. "The power is what gives us heat, the telly, the oven, and the fridge."

"He doesn't want us to have those anymore?" Darcy frowned at the thought.

"Not for a little while," Harry explained, smoothing her hair back. "He's cross with me. He'll turn it back on when he's done being angry."

"When will that be?" Darcy wanted to know.

Both of the previous times, the outage had lasted only about twenty-four hours. Ben wanted to make sure Harry knew he'd done something wrong, but he didn't want to physically affect Harry's (or Darcy's) health. He had to hedge his bets, though. "Probably in a day or two, maybe three. It won't be too long." Of that, he was pretty sure.

"That's a long time, Papa," Darcy observed, her little face very serious.

"We can make it," Harry assured her. "First, let's get on our warmest clothes."

Most of the clothes Ben provided them with were suited to the constant warmed air that circulated in the shed, but Harry got them both a pair of jeans, a long-sleeve shirt, and a t-shirt to go over that. Socks completed the outfits, and that would have to do. They had no shoes.

Once they were clothed, Harry distracted Darcy with breakfast. They had cereal with the milk that might well go bad if the power stayed out long enough, then the last bits of birthday cake that were left.

Harry usually allowed some telly after breakfast, but instead they played some games he remembered from his childhood that Darcy adored. Simon Says, Going on a Bear Hunt, the Hokey Pokey. They played each thoroughly before Harry led Darcy through their daily exercises.

They rolled the rug up and placed it on the bed, and they pushed back the table and folded the chairs. This left space enough for Darcy to run back and forth and in a circle. Harry called it Running Track.

After Darcy was thoroughly exhausted, they settled onto the bed for a story and a nap.

Harry filled the rest of the day with as many activities he could think of. They played with the handmade toys they'd made with empty boxes, foil, and used containers, adding details to them as they did the dollhouse.

By tea time, Harry was reasonably sure that they weren't getting the power back that day. The only upside was that Ben likely wouldn't visit. A night off was rare. Harry would take it.

He gave Darcy and himself a sponge bath with cold tap water, then they dressed in warm clothes for the night, huddling together under the duvet as the temperature in the room dropped.

Harry decided to tell Darcy a story he hadn't told her before.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled his daughter close, hauled in a deep breath, and began.

"Once upon a time, there was a young boy who loved to sing."

"Like you, Papa," Darcy interjected.

Harry smiled softly. "Just like me." He paused for a moment, then continued. "At first, he only liked to sing at home and in the car, but as he got older, he found out he liked singing in front of people, and he and some friends started a band called White Eskimo."

Darcy giggled. "That's a funny name."

"Not his idea. But their name didn't matter," Harry told her. "They had so much fun playing together. They played at school dances and in pubs, and once they even participated in a contest."

"Did they win?"

"They did," Harry replied. "And that made the boy think. He thought maybe he was good enough to go on _The X-Factor_."

Darcy knew what that was; they'd watched it on TV. She clapped her little hands. "Did he? Did he? Did he?"

"At first, he was very nervous," Harry said. "He would only sing in the bathroom at his house."

"The bathroom?"

Sometimes Harry forgot that this shed was the only room Darcy had ever known. It broke his heart every time. "Our Room only has one area, but some houses have more than one area. A bathroom has the toilet, the bathtub, and a sink in it."

"Okay," she accepted easily.

"Anyway, his mum and his sister convinced him that he was good enough to audition," Harry told her. "So, he did. He travelled to a city an hour from his home and sang for some very important people. You remember seeing people singing on _The X-Factor_ for some people sitting at a long table?"

Darcy nodded. "Mmhm."

"Those people thought the boy was good enough to go to Boot Camp," he revealed. "You remember Boot Camp?"

"Maybe." She loved dragging stories out, if she could.

"Boot Camp is where the contestants sing and dance and audition some more. If they make it all the way through Boot Camp, they get to go to Judges' Houses to sing to be allowed to go to the Live Shows," he reminded her.

"Did he get through?" Darcy wanted to know.

"He worked very hard at everything they asked him to do, but then he didn't get put through," Harry told her.

"Oh no!" Darcy exclaimed. "What did he do?"

"Well, he was, of course, very sad," Harry answered. "He went backstage to be with his family, and he thought it was over. He knew, though, that he wanted to be a singer forever."

"What happened to him next?"

"He was about to leave the arena when he and some other boys were called backstage for an announcement. The boy's name was called, along with four others, and they were sent back out onto the stage. The boy didn't know what to think, but he went. He and the four boys were told that they were being put into a group, and they were going to Judges' Houses together."

"Yay!" Darcy clapped her hands again, though the effect was somewhat spoiled when she yawned widely and had to cover her mouth. When the yawn passed, she inquired, "How did they do at Judges' Houses?" She barely made it through the question before yawning once more.

With a fond smile, Harry ran a hand through her curls. "That's a new story. It's time for bed now."

"Papa!" Darcy protested, though it was undercut by yet another yawn.

"I'll finish the story another time," he promised. "Let's try to get some sleep now. It's late."

She huffed just a little, but then she burrowed down under the covers, snuggling close to Harry for warmth and comfort. She was asleep in less than two minutes.

It took Harry a little while longer to find sleep. He was too lost in the memory of some of the last days of his real life. Days that would haunt him forever. Days he would never get back.

He still remembered clear as crystal the moment they were told they were being made a group. Him, Niall, Liam, Zayn, and Louis. Louis, recently become his favourite person in the world. It had been like a dream come true.

If only he had known how quickly that dream would end. He would have savoured each moment just a little more.

Darcy moved in her sleep, murmuring just a little. He knew it was time for him to sleep, too.

As he had taught himself to do, he took it all--White Eskimo, _The X-Factor_ auditions, Boot Camp, being put in a group with Louis--and he placed it into that box in a corner of his mind. He could revisit the contents of the box any time he wanted, but for now, so he could sleep, he put the box aside.

The trick worked quickly. He hugged Darcy tight, and soon joined her in blessed sleep.

* * *

When he awoke the following morning--this time before Darcy--the power was still off. Harry sighed, though he did expect Ben to turn the power back on before too much longer.

He pulled the duvet up and tried to return to sleep, not wanting to rouse Darcy just yet.

His mind was already whirring, though, making more sleep impossible.

Lying in the cold which had seeped into the shed, Harry considered what had gotten him into this current mess. Darcy was clearly becoming bolder, since she was now willing to come out of hiding when she was truly curious about something. Harry couldn't put into words--or even thoughts--how much this idea terrified him.

He didn't think Ben would hurt Darcy, but Ben had a temper--this last altercation was certainly not the first--and Harry had no idea if Ben would take his frustration out on Darcy if the situation arose. Harry would do his level best to prevent that, but there was just so much that was out of his control.

Maybe it was time to read Darcy in, make her understand just a little bit more of their situation.

When Darcy finally awoke, Harry once again had them dress in the warmest layers he could put together, then they sat down to bread and softened butter for breakfast. He had smelled the milk, but didn't serve it; he didn't want to risk making either of them ill.

While Darcy munched on her bread, Harry asked her, "Hey, Darce, do you remember Mouse?"

Darcy nodded.

"Do you know where he is?" Harry went on.

After a moment of contemplation, Darcy shook her head. "No."

"Hm. I do." When she looked at him in confusion, he explained, "He's on the other side of this wall."

With a wrinkled brow, she questioned, "What other side?"

"Darcy, there are two sides to everything," Harry pointed out.

"Not an octagon," she countered. "An octagon has eight sides."

Harry tamped down his irritation at trying to get through to a small girl who, through no fault of her own, didn't know anything beyond the inside of a shed. As far as she was concerned, outside the shed was outer space, with planets in orbit she could watch on TV. He'd led her to believe that, since there seemed no reason to tell her otherwise.

Two quick calming breaths later, he said, "Yes, that's true. An octagon does have eight sides. But a wall. A wall has two sides." He held one hand straight up, making the other an 'o' right next to it. "We're on the inside. Mouse is on the outside." He moved his 'o' to the other side of his hand.

"In outer space?" Darcy inquired, still clearly not getting the idea.

"No," Harry responded. "In the world. It's much closer than outer space."

"I can't see the outside side," Darcy said quite logically.

"Listen, I know I told you something else before, but you were much younger. I didn't think you could understand," he explained. "But now you're so old and so smart, I know you can get this."

Darcy thought about it for a second, then shook her head.

"Where do you think Ben gets our food?" Harry persisted in his quest to make her understand.

This she had an answer to. "From TV, by magic."

"There is no magic," Harry told her firmly. "What you see on TV, those are pictures of real things and real people. It's real stuff."

"Pikachu is real for real?" Darcy's eyes grew as round as saucers.

"No, that's a drawing." Harry held on to his patience by a tenuous thread. "Pikachu is a drawing. But other people, they have faces like us. Those are pictures of real things, and all the other stuff you see on TV, that's real, too. That's real oceans, real cats, real dogs, real trees and grass."

Darcy shook her head firmly. "No way. Where would they all fit?"

"They just do," Harry assured her. "They just fit. They just fit out in the world."

Darcy continued to look extremely sceptical.

"Come on, Darcy, you're so smart. I know you've been wondering about this," Harry said, pleading with her to go with him on this one.

She wasn't buying it. With a sigh, she asked, "Can I have something else to eat?"

Harry looked up, trying to think of another way to get Darcy to understand. He spotted something laying on the skylight. He jumped up and moved to the other side of the table to lift Darcy up.

"Look, Darcy, there's a leaf." He boosted her up onto his shoulders so she could see closer. "Do you see it?"

"I don't see a leaf," she replied.

"It's right there." He pointed to the leaf just skirting the edge of the icy outline around the outside of the skylight.

"Dumbo Papa. That's not a leaf. Leafs are green," she scoffed.

"When they're on the trees, they are," Harry conceded. "But when they fall off the tree, they rot and turn brown, like salad in the fridge."

"But where is all the other stuff you said? Dogs and cats and trees and grass?"

Harry pulled her off his shoulders and gently put her back down. "We can't see them from here because Skylight sees upwards instead of sideways."

She looked accusingly back over her shoulder at him. "You're trying to trick me."

"No, I'm not," Harry insisted, moving so he was standing in front of her.

"You're a liar, Papa!" Darcy yelled.

"I'm not, Darcy." Harry pulled in a deep breath. "Before, when you were smaller, I couldn’t explain it to you. I had to make up a story. Now I'm doing the opposite of lying. I'm un-lying." This is what he'd become. Someone who argues with small children and makes up words. "I'm un-lying because you're five now. You're old enough to understand what the world is. You have to understand. You have to help me. We can't keep living like this."

"I want to be four again," she declared petulantly.

Harry hauled in another deep breath. He needed a new tactic. One came to him quickly. "Hey, do you remember the story about the boy on _The X-Factor_?"

Darcy nodded. “You didn’t tell me what happened at the Judges’ Houses.”

“Well, actually, that boy was me,” Harry told her, watching carefully for her reaction.

With a shake of her head, Darcy argued, “No way. You don’t sing that well.”

That was a vote of no confidence he hadn’t been expecting. “Well, whatever you may think, Miss High and Mighty, it really was me. I did a few auditions on my own, then got put in a band with four other boys. Liam, Niall, Zayn, and Louis.”

Darcy squinted her eyes at him. “Are you telling me another fib?”

Harry shook his head solemnly. “I’m still un-lying. It was me. I promise.”

Darcy's eyes widened again. "You were on TV?"

"I was," Harry confirmed. It ached just a little less now, but when he was first taken, he got to watch himself when _The X-Factor_ aired. It just about killed him, but he couldn't take his eyes off it. The only episode he had turned off was the one where they ran a piece about his disappearance. That had hit way too close to home.

"Did your band win?" Darcy asked eagerly.

"They didn't, but I wasn't a part of it when they went to Judges' Houses," Harry said.

"Why?" Darcy was clearly puzzled once more, her brow furrowed and her mouth turned down.

"Because I was here," Harry explained.

Her little face--both so much like his and not at all like his--did not become any less confused.

He steeled himself for the next part of the conversation. "I wasn't always here."

"You weren't?"

"How do you think I got on _The X-Factor_?" Harry asked her.

"You went from here to go there." She delivered her answer as if Harry was the dumbest person alive.

"But I told you about my mum and my sister telling me I should try out for the show," Harry reminded her. "Where do you imagine they lived if I was here?"

She had nothing.

"I lived in a house with my mum, my step-father, and my sister," Harry went on. "You would call them Granny, Grampa Robin, and Auntie Gemma. My dad, your Grampa Des, lived in his own house."

"A house?" she questioned. "Like on TV?"

He nodded. "Just like on TV, but real, out in the world. We had a separate kitchen, lounge, and three bedrooms. We had a hammock in the backyard, and we used to swing and eat ice cream together."

Harry could tell that Darcy's little mind was blown; perhaps she was finally starting to understand what he was trying to tell her. "Why did you move here?" she wanted to know.

"I didn't make that choice," Harry told her. "Ben stole me."

Darcy appraised him doubtfully.

"I was back in Holmes Chapel, the town I grew up in," Harry recalled. "I was out shopping when a man told me he had a sick dog he wanted me to look at."

"A dog?" Darcy's eyes lit up at the thought of a puppy. "What kind of dog was it?"

"There wasn't actually a dog," Harry said, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose against the headache forming.

If the pout on her face was any indication, Darcy was becoming just as frustrated with this story as he was having to tell it, so Harry knew he needed to make his point and move on. "There's life outside this room, bug, in the world."

"Why don't we ever go anywhere, then?" Darcy wanted to know.

Harry was honest with her. "Ben doesn't want us to. He wants us to be right here. That's why he's locked the door and is the only one who knows the code. He doesn't want us to leave."

"Why?" Darcy asked guilelessly.

Harry wished he could be honest with her. "I don't really know. I think he might be lonely."

Darcy took a long moment to think about that concept. Harry's breath caught in his throat as he awaited her verdict.

Finally, she looked Harry directly in the eye and said, "That's really sad. Maybe he doesn’t have any other friends. Just us."

Harry worried his heart was going to jump out of his chest. He stood up and moved to stand behind her, squatting so he could wrap his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. "I love you so much, bug."

Darcy's brow was still a teensy bit knitted, but she accepted the words of endearment with a smile. "I love you, too, Papa."

Right by her ear, he whispered, "Do you understand, Darcy? About the world?"

"I don't know, Papa. It sounds all made up," Darcy answered. "But it's a fun story to listen to." She turned to smile at him over her shoulder.

Harry sighed. He supposed he couldn't blame her for not believing him. From where she stood, he was sure the idea of an outside world was pretty fantastical. He had no other ideas to convince her. He was just going to have to let her have some processing time and hope against hope that some of what he said sunk in and started to make sense.

"Papa, can we work on Eggsnake?" Darcy requested. "We have some eggshells leftover from my birthday cake."

"Sure," he said, resigned to waiting her out. "You get Eggsnake out, and I'll get the needles, thread, and shells from your cake."

Darcy immediately dove under the bed to pull out the snake made of eggshells they'd been working on since she was much younger. It was one of her favourite things to work on.

Putting the real world back into the corner of his mind, Harry started to collect the things they would need to add to Eggsnake. Even inside Room, things had to move forward.

* * *

In two strokes of good luck for the day, Ben did not come to visit, but he did turn the power back on shortly after Harry had tucked Darcy and himself into bed for the night. They slept much easier in a heated room.

The next morning, Darcy was joyous to have the TV back. Harry relaxed his usual rules and allowed an extra half-hour of programming. Darcy turned on a nature show and watched while Harry took care of washing their laundry in the tub. They had used more clothes than usual while the power had been off, and he didn't want them to run out.

As he was hanging the clothes to dry on the clothes line that stretched from one corner of the shed to the opposite corner, Darcy piped up, "Papa, are turtles real?"

He turned to look to where she sat on the floor in front of the bed. "Absolutely real. I had a neighbour who had one as a pet."

"Crocodiles and sharks?" Darcy asked next. "Are they real, too?"

Harry nodded. "Totally real."

Darcy pointed the remote at the TV and changed the channel to a period drama--not a genre Harry was in love with, though Darcy loved the costumes when he let her watch one. "Is this real?"

Clipping the last t-shirt up on the line, Harry moved to sit on the floor next to Darcy. "Kind of," he answered. "Those are real people, but they're playing dress up. They're pretending to be people from hundreds of years ago."

Pursing her lips thoughtfully, Darcy changed the channel again. This time it was a cartoon, featuring some aliens in battle. "Just TV," Darcy determined. "Drawings on TV."

Harry smiled down at her and playfully bumped her shoulder. "You're getting it."

One of the aliens on the television was clobbered by one of the block-headed humanoids. Darcy looked up at Harry. "When Ben comes back, I'm going to kick him in the butt. He was mean to take our power."

Harry took the remote gently from his daughter's hand and turned the TV off. "Let me tell you something. One time, before you were born, I tried to kick Ben in the butt. I hid behind the door, holding the lid from the toilet tank."

"The lid?" Darcy questioned. "There's no lid."

"There used to be. It was the heaviest thing here in Room," he explained. "When Ben came in, I hit him over the head with it, but I messed up."

Darcy's eyes grew wide as saucers as she listened intently.

"He shoved the door closed and grabbed me by my wrist," he held up his left hand, "which is why it aches sometimes."

After a moment of thought, Darcy proposed, "One night when he falls asleep in Bed, we could kill him dead."

Harry regarded her seriously. "We could. But then what? We'd run out of food, and we don't know the code to the door."

Darcy contemplated the problem for a moment, and Harry let her. He needed her to understand what they were up against. He was also formulating a plan as they talked, the idea growing clearer with every word they exchanged.

Her eyes eventually lit up. "The Granny, Grampas, and Auntie Gemma could come!"

"Darcy, they don't know where we are," Harry told her. "Room's not on any map."

Deflated, Darcy frowned.

Harry smoothed her hair. "Darcy, listen to me. We've got a chance. We've nearly missed it, but we've got our chance."

"Our chance?" Darcy repeated warily.

Harry knew it was now or never. He had to do something to change their situation. "You're going to help me. You're going to help me trick Ben."

Darcy's face showed utter confusion. "I don't get it."

Harry consulted his watch. It was just under an hour until Ben usually came. He had to get ready if they were going to enact his plan tonight. He got up and put a pot of water on to boil.

While he waited for the water to heat up, he explained the details of his plan to Darcy. "I'm going to make your face so hot that Ben will have to take you to hospital in his truck. When you get there, you're going to say to the doctors, 'Help! Police!'"

"Maybe I can do it next year, when I'm six," Darcy suggested, her voice shaking.

Harry knew she was scared, but he shook his head. "Nope. Tonight. It has to be tonight, Darce. We'll tell Ben that because of the power cut, you got so cold that you got a fever."

"Can we do it tomorrow?" Darcy tried, her voice small.

"No. I'm your Papa, and I'm making this choice for both of us," Harry said sternly. He hated to be rough with her, but now that he'd come up with a plan, he had to see it through. Now.

As Darcy tried to wrap her head around what he was asking her to do, Harry found a clean scrap of paper and he penned a simple note for Darcy to carry, working under the assumption that she might have a difficult time speaking to anyone who wasn't him.

_My name is Darcy Styles. My father is Harry Styles. Harry was stolen in July of 2010 and is being held in a shed in the backyard of the man who brought him here._

Once the water was boiling, Harry urged Darcy into bed, and he began heating her forehead with a soaked flannel. "Ow!" she cried, wiggling and squirming. This was far out of the realm of anything she'd experienced in her short, captive life.

"It's okay," he assured her. "You're going to be fine. But you have to stay floppy. You're going to stay floppy, and you aren't going to move or say anything. You have to pretend you're feeling weak and ill."

He made himself retch just enough to streak some bile on the pillow under Darcy's head. It was gross, but he was desperate, and it was necessary.

"Ew!" she squeaked. "What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Harry said. "I have to make you smell sick."

He soaked the flannel one more time in the boiling water and pressed it to her forehead gently. "Okay, bug, show me how you're going to get out the note."

Darcy snaked a hand down under the thin duvet and into her pocket, retrieving the folded note, showing it to Harry. He smiled. "Good. Just hand it to anyone there, and they'll help you."

"Are you sure, Papa?" Darcy seemed unconvinced. "Maybe you can hand them the note."

"I won't be there, bug. I'll still be here. You give someone the note, and I promise they'll help you." Harry's watch alarm beeped. "Okay, Darce. Put the note back in your pocket."

As she snaked her hand back down to replace the note, she looked Harry in the eye. "I'm scared."

"I know." He looked toward the door and muttered words he'd never used before in relation to Ben. "Would you come on?"

Darcy was whimpering still, so Harry reached down and pressed a kiss to her temple. "It's okay. You're going to be okay."

It was another few minutes, but soon enough there was the tell-tale rumble of the outside door of the shed opening. Ben was here.

"It's going to be okay," Harry whispered before getting up, throwing the flannel into the bathtub, and going to meet Ben at the door.

Ben had barely come through the door before Harry announced, "Darcy's ill."

"Shh!" Ben hissed. "You know the drill. No talking until the door's closed."

Harry impatiently waited for Ben to shut the door. Once it clicked, locked once more, Harry went on. "I'm sorry. It's just…Darcy is ill. It was so cold, and…."

"Well, you brought that on yourself," Ben stated.

"Maybe, but I couldn't keep her warm, and now she's burning up," Harry told him. He found it wasn't very hard to force worry into his voice.

"You have painkillers. Did you try some of those?" Ben inquired.

"I did. She just keeps throwing them back up." Helplessness was also not hard to feign.

Ben began to move toward where Darcy lay on the bed, tucked under the duvet. "No! Don't!"

Harry tried to block Ben's way, but Ben just shoved him back. "I have to feel how hot she is."

When Ben reached a hand out to Darcy, she squirmed under his touch, whimpering a little; Harry didn't think she was acting at all.

"Stay still!" Ben ordered her. She froze, and he put the back of his hand against her forehead. "Yikes. She feels like she's on fire."

"She's been like that all day," Harry insisted.

"Well, I'll pick up something tomorrow," Ben said. "Something stronger than your painkillers."

"But she's only five. She's dehydrated. She has a fever," Harry protesting, desperate for Ben to bend to his will. "She could go into convulsions at any moment."

Holding his palms up and backing away, Ben yelled, "Shut up! Let me think."

Harry held his breath.

Ben moved toward the door and repeated, "I'll bring her something tomorrow. Something stronger."

"No! You need to take her to the A and E right now," Harry countered, his voice pitched high now. "Before she gets worse."

"Stop the hysterics. I'll be back with something tomorrow." And with that, he closed the door between him and Harry.

Harry banged on the door. "Please! I'm begging you."

Ben, though, was gone.

Harry pulled in a shuddering breath and moved back to where Darcy still lay in bed, shaking not from fever, but from fear. Harry gathered her in his arms.

"Am I still going to hospital?" Darcy asked quietly.

"No, bug. Not this time," Harry answered. In a whisper, he assured her, "It's okay."

Even if he was, once again, lying to her.

* * *

After the stress of trying to get Ben to take Darcy out of Room, Harry made the following day an easy one, allowing Darcy to watch more TV than usual, and using the last of their peanut butter for sandwiches. They skipped School and just played with Darcy's favourites of the toys they'd built together.

Right after an exceptionally early tea, Harry pulled Darcy onto the bed for some story time. He held his little girl close to retell her part of a story he recalled from his school days, _The Count of Monte Cristo_. A new plan had formed in his mind, and there wasn't a lot of time for laying groundwork.

"You remember how Edmond pulls his friend out of a bag and hides him, then he gets in the bag and hides in there really still until the guards come?" He started right at the important part he wanted to remind her of.

Darcy nodded into his chest.

"Well, that's what you're going to do," he told her.

She looked up to meet his gaze. Her brow was crinkled with confusion.

"You see how that's even tricksier than pretending to be sick?" Harry asked. He had to keep this as upbeat as he could. "You're going to play dead."

"But I don't want to be dead," Darcy protested.

"You'll just be playing dead," Harry assured her. "I'll show you."

They climbed off of the bed, then Harry urged Darcy to lay down on the rug.

"I'm just going to fold it over, then roll you inside," Harry explained. "When you're all wrapped up, Ben is going to take you outside of Room into the world."

Harry took the long edge of the rug and folded it over on top of Darcy before rolling her inside. "You'll need to stay stiff and very, very quiet. Ben won't be able to see you, and he won't know you're still alive."

Once the rug was completely rolled up, with Darcy snug in the middle, Harry began to pick it up. "Ben will pick you up like this, and you won't be all floppy and wobbly this time, but stiff, stiff, stiff. Like a robot."

He shook the rug. "It's going to shake like this, okay? See what it feels like? That will mean you're in Ben's truck.

"When it's all shaky and bumpy, you'll know Ben's driving," Harry went on. "He'll be busy, so you can quietly, quietly wiggle out."

For a few minutes, they practiced Darcy wriggling out. It wasn't easy. Harry had to figure out how to roll the rug up in such a way that Darcy was securely wrapped up, but wouldn't have to wiggle too much to get out.

She began to cry after about the fourth time. "I can't do it, Papa."

"You can, Darcy," he insisted. "You have to. I'll have to pretend, too. When Ben comes, I'm going to be talking to him as if you're dead, even though you're not."

They continued to practise, though Darcy was clearly unhappy about the entire plan. Harry refused to give in. They had to do this. There was no choice.

When she finally got the hang of getting out of the rug, Harry went over the next part of the plan. "Ben's going to drive away with you in the back of the truck. He's going to head to someplace to…lay you down."

"No. I don't want him to," Darcy said, tears in her eyes.

"It's okay. You're going to wiggle out of the rug and run away before he can," Harry explained. "You're going to wait for the truck to stop, then you're going to jump out of the truck."

"Jump out?"

"Yep. It's easy to remember. Truck, wiggle out, jump, run. You're going to run away and find someone nearby."

"Someone?" Darcy questioned.

"The first person you see. You're going to say, 'My papa is Harry Styles.'"

"Is it going to be an actual real-life person?" Darcy wanted to know.

"It is," he answered. "You have the note I wrote?"

"Yes." She patted her jeans pocket.

"Good," he praised her. "You give them the note, and they'll get help."

"What if Ben unwraps me?"

"He won't," Harry said. "And I'll be inside your head the whole time, talking to you and helping you remember what to do."

"Promise?" She looked up at him with worried eyes.

"I promise. The whole time."

It took her a moment, but finally, she gave a little nod. "Okay. I'll try."

"That's my brave girl." Smiling down at her, and trying not to cry, Harry told her, "You're going to love it."

"What?"

"The world," he said. "My house with the hammock and Granny, Grampa Robin, and Auntie Gemma."

"And you," Darcy added.

Harry's heart constricted. "And me." More lies. There was no guarantee he would ever leave this shed himself. Darcy leaving had to be enough.

He lay down next to her, then, cuddling her close, acutely aware that this could be the last time he ever held her. He closed his eyes and breathed her in, committing her smell to his memory. He smoothed her hair and caressed her cheek, determined to make the most of the last moments he had her with him before they enacted the daring, possibly catastrophic, plan Harry had concocted.

Before either he or Darcy was ready came the tell-tale rumble that was Ben opening the outside door of the shed. Harry hastily kissed Darcy's forehead, whispered, "I love you. You can do this," and rolled her up in the rug, just as they'd been practising.

When the _beep beep_ signalling Ben's entrance came, Harry sat up, hands clutching the underside of the rug. It was not hard to force tears into his eyes.

Ben held up a paper bag as he closed the door behind him. "Antibiotics." Upon noticing Harry on the floor next to the rolled-up rug, he asked, "What's going on?"

"She got worse in the night," Harry choked out, hoping he was coming across as completely distraught. "She wouldn't wake up."

"Oh goodness." Ben sighed and dropped the bag of medicine onto the bed. "You poor boy."

Harry didn't say anything, rocking back and forth on his knees.

"I guess it must have been pretty serious," Ben commented.

Harry decided to ratchet up the tension. "You killed my baby girl."

"Take it easy," Ben returned. "Let me take a look."

"No!" Harry yelled. "I won't let you touch her."

For once, Ben backed off, holding his hands up. "Okay, okay."

Harry remained quiet, looking down at the rug and worked on pulling forth more tears.

"Are you sure she's…gone?" Ben inquired.

Incredulous, Harry looked up and met Ben's gaze. "Am I sure? Of course I'm sure."

Ben sighed again. "Okay. Well, she can't stay here, you know."

A sob that was actually genuine escaped Harry. "Where will you take her?"

"I don't know," Ben admitted. "Let me think a minute."

"It needs to be somewhere nice," Harry told him. "It can't be here. I'll feel her."

"Fine," Ben allowed, pacing the floor behind Harry.

"Make it somewhere with trees," Harry demanded, counting on that to be far enough away to give Darcy plenty of time to escape.

"Fine," Ben repeated.

"And I want you to promise you won't look at her," Harry made one final request. "I want to be the last one to have seen her. Swear to it!"

"I swear," Ben acquiesced. He started to sit down on the bed. "Well, it's about an hour until dark."

"No! You have to take her now," Harry insisted. Another sob escaped him. "I can't bear her to be here…dead."

Ben straightened up. "Okay, okay." He bent down to start to pick up the rug.

Harry sent Darcy a silent message. _Stay stiff, baby girl. Just like a robot._ "Be gentle," he entreated Ben.

Ben hefted the rug in his arms. "I've got her." Once he had a secure hold, he ordered, "Step back. Face the wall."

Harry stumbled to his feet and did as Ben demanded, turning to look at the wall above the TV, covered in art Darcy had made. The sound of Ben entering the code echoed around Room.

 _Beep beep._ Harry listened as Ben grunted, carrying the rug--and Darcy--through the door and out of the shed. Ben shut the door behind him.

For the first time in five years, Harry was alone. Alone and just as terrified as he'd been when he'd first woken up in the shed. Not for himself this time. For Darcy. He prayed to every deity he could think of that Darcy would be safe and able to follow through on their plan. He could handle no other outcome.

* * *

_She held her breath for as long as she could. Rug went **bump bump** as Ben carried it and her out to his truck. It seemed like a million minutes went by before he put them down. She let her breath out quietly, praying he didn't hear her._

_The floor under her began to shake. Papa had said this was the truck moving. She would need to wiggle out of Rug so she'd be ready to jump when the truck stopped._

_She was scared, like she sometimes was when she was alone in Wardrobe and Ben came to visit Papa. Ben always made Papa sad. But she knew she had to be brave. She had to get help so she and Papa could be on the outside side of Room._

_Darcy pulled in a huge breath as the floor continued to shake underneath her and Rug. The shaking slowed down and sped up once. Finally, just like they'd practised, she wiggled and wiggled and finally got out of Rug._

_She blinked against the bright light. It looked like someone had punched out Skylight. The square of blue they sometimes laid on the floor to look up at was so much bigger when opened wide. It had no end. It just went on and on and on._

_She turned herself over and got on her hands and knees, looking for the side of the truck. The truck slowed and then speeded up again as she moved slowly toward the edge. She had just reached it when the truck shuddered and slammed, knocking her down. It took a few seconds to catch her breath and get back up._

_Ben was yelling as she scrambled back to the side of the truck. When the truck came to another stop, she threw her leg over the edge and jumped._

_The ground was hard when she landed, but she could hear Ben behind her, so she picked herself up and ran away from him. Her socks were getting wet as she ran, but Darcy told herself it didn't matter._

_She ran **smack** into a someone's body. A real-life person just like Papa had told her about. She fell onto the ground next to the someone. An animal made a loud noise in her ear as she tried to get up._

_"Are you okay, sweetheart?" the someone asked in a deep voice similar to Papa's._

_Ben caught up to Darcy then and grabbed her off the ground._

_"Is she okay?" the someone said to Ben. "She looks like she's been in an accident."_

_"It's fine," Ben told the someone as Darcy squirmed in his hands, trying to get away. "It's all under control."_

_"I could call for help," the someone said next._

_"It's fine," Ben said again._

_"Help!" Darcy cried, still trying to wriggle out of Ben's arms. "Help!"_

_She reached into her pocket and pulled out the note, holding it out toward the someone._

_"Is that for me?" the someone asked._

_Ben ripped the note out of her hand, crumpling it up and shoving it into his pocket._

_"I want Papa!" Darcy yelled, crying and punching at Ben wherever she could get to. "Help!"_

_The someone's voice was very loud when it said, "I'm going to call the police, sir."_

_All of a sudden, Ben dropped her. Darcy hit the ground hard, and she curled up into a ball as she heard Ben's footsteps moving away._

_The someone hunched over next to her, and the animal was sniffing at her hair. She curled up even tighter, whispering, "Papa."_

_"Hi, honey," the someone said quietly. They pulled the animal back a little. "This is Jack. He's not going to hurt you. I'm just going to call someone for help."_

_As the someone stood up, Darcy reached her hand out to something beside her. It was a leaf! Just like the ones on top of Skylight. It felt so light in her hand. She stared at it. It was brown and crinkly._

_There was water falling gently on her when she heard sirens like on TV. Not long after there came a new someone with a higher voice who bent down to say, "Hi there. I'm Officer Parker. Can you tell me your name?"_

_"Darcy," she whispered._

_"Can you say that a little louder for me?" Officer Parker asked._

_"Darcy," she said a little louder._

_"Well, hello, Darcy. I'm going to get my partner, Officer Stafford, to pick you up so we can get out of the rain and into the car, okay?"_

_A third someone, tall like Papa and Ben, picked her up the way Papa did to carry her from Wardrobe to Bed. They put her through an opening and sat her on a soft seat. They wrapped a blanket around her that was softer than the one folded up in Wardrobe._

_Darcy was a little distracted by the rain. In Room, rain had sounded soft on Skylight. This rain was louder and ran in rivers down the window next to her. Droplets of water splashed on the window and then one river ran into another, then another and another until they were all mashed up together._

_"Darcy, you remember I told you I was an officer?" the lady someone said._

_Darcy didn’t turn to look at her, but she nodded._

_"That means I'm here to help you," the officer said. "Do you have another name?"_

_"I'm Darcy," she told the officer in a whisper voice. She didn't know another name._

_"Okay. How old are you?"_

_She knew this one, of course. "I'm five."_

_"Good. Now, can you tell me where you live?" the officer asked._

_Darcy didn't know how to answer that, so she just kept watching the rain._

_After a moment, the officer had another question. "Do you have a mother or a father?"_

_"Papa," Darcy replied, still quiet, quiet._

_"All right. Does Papa have another name?"_

_Papa had written a name on the note, but Ben had crumpled the note, so the name was gone. Acting brave again, she turned to look at the officer. "I don't remember."_

_"That's okay," the officer told her. "Can you tell me where your papa is now?"_

_Darcy could answer this one, too. "Room."_

_"What room?" the officer asked. "Darcy, where's the room?"_

_Darcy had no idea._

_"Who was that man? Is he your other father? Is he your papa's boyfriend?" the officer wanted to know._

_So many questions! Darcy just shook her head._

_"You're doing fine, Darcy," the officer praised her._

_"Maybe we should just call Child Services," the other officer--Officer Stafford--said. Not to Darcy, though._

_"No, I want to keep at this," Officer Parker said. "Let's drive back where the guy said the truck came from."_

_The car started to move, and Darcy sat up a little straighter to look out the window. It was getting to be night-time, but she could make out some houses and other real people walking by the road._

_"Do you recognise anything, sweetheart?" the officer asked._

_Darcy couldn't answer._

_"The room where Papa is…. What's outside the room?"_

_"Space," Darcy whispered. Then she remembered Papa un-lying and shook her head. "No, the world."_

_"So, when you step out the door…."_

_Darcy shook her head once more._

_"No? No, you don't?" The officer sounded confused, like she'd felt when Papa had tried to explain the outside side._

_"We don't know how to open the door," Darcy explained._

_After a few seconds, the officer had more questions. "Is there daylight in your room?"_

_Darcy nodded._

_"Excellent. How many windows are there?"_

_"Zero," Darcy reported._

_"How does the sun come in, then?" Officer Parker asked._

_"Through Skylight." The sunlight and the moonlight came through Skylight in a square._

_The officer wrote something on a paper. "Skylight? Excellent. So you live in a house with a skylight?"_

_"No," Darcy said. "It's not a house. It's a… a…." What was Papa's word for it? Darcy closed her eyes and tried to imagine Papa's voice. "Room is a…shed."_

_"A shed?" Officer Parker repeated. "It's a shed, Darcy?"_

_Darcy nodded._

_"That's like a needle in a haystack," Officer Stafford said from in front of them. Darcy didn't know there were needles in haystacks. Needles were pointy. Wouldn’t that hurt the horses?_

_"Darcy, listen to me. What made you jump out of the truck?" Officer Parker wanted to know._

_"Papa said it in my head," Darcy remembered._

_"Okay. What exactly did he say?" the officer asked._

_"Jump when it slows down, but I couldn't," Darcy said._

_"So, what did you do?"_

_"The third time I got bumped," Darcy answered._

_"The third time of what?" The officer was never going to run out of questions._

_"The third slow," Darcy said. "Everything went sideways, then it stopped, and I jumped."_

_Officer Parker gave her a smile. "I got it, sweetie."_

_Next, she picked up a box on her shoulder and spoke into it. "Dispatch, I have a rough location. South on Greeley, Three stop signs past the junction with Elstree. Look for a garden shed with a skylight. Also check the most recent satellite images for a red pick-up truck in the driveway. We're en route."_

_The officer let go of the box. "Darcy, you did great. Just great."_

_Sirens came on over their heads, and the car suddenly turned around. Darcy wondered where they were going._

* * *

Harry had not been alone in Room for five years. Before Darcy had been born, the only person he ever saw was Ben. He had spent every waking moment dreading Ben's nightly visit. He had watched TV all day, trying to block out the staggering pain of having been kidnapped and stolen from a life he had loved.

Finding out he was pregnant with Darcy had been both horrifying and a relief. Ben, unsurprisingly, had offered no medical care. Harry had been just nineteen. Ben had made it clear he would provide things for the baby, but it would be up to Harry to care for it.

Harry loved kids, always had. Raising one, however, was not something he had planned to do any time in his teens. He had harboured serious doubts about his ability to properly take care of a baby inside a shed. On the other hand, a baby would mean he wouldn't be by himself anymore, and he'd craved company--other than Ben's. Ben was the opposite of company.

The baby had been born on an early March morning. Ben had stopped soliciting sex a month before, when Harry's bump had gotten too cumbersome. He had only come once a week to bring Harry food and clothes. He had told Harry he would be on his own to give birth to the baby. Regardless of what could happen, there would be no doctor, no hospital, no nothing.

He had gone into labour the night before, and he had been terrified. He knew a lot could go wrong. He could lose this baby before he ever got to know it. Fortunately, his baby girl's birth was actually relatively easy. Thirty minutes of pain and pushing, and she had slid right out onto the rug next to the bed. He had used the scissors he'd begged Ben for to cut the cord, and he had called her Darcy Anne.

From that moment on, he had not been by himself. Not for a second. Darcy had been an excellent distraction from reality. She needed Harry completely, and he loved her unconditionally. She kept him sane; he had no doubt that after almost eight years in captivity, he would have gone crazy if it hadn't been for his little girl.

His little girl who was, for the first time in her entire life, out of Harry's sight. And he was, for the first time since she'd been born, completely and utterly alone.

This entire plan was an enormous gamble. Harry could think of a hundred ways it could go wrong. He knew Ben might kill Darcy, he knew Darcy might not be able to wiggle out of the rug before Ben could bury it, he knew Darcy might escape, but be unable to lead them back to Harry. He might never see her again. Worse, he might not ever know what happened to her. If that was the case, he hoped Ben would just kill him in a fit of rage. He couldn't imagine year after year of not knowing whether Darcy was safe.

Harry tried watching TV. He tried reading one of his books. Nothing helped staunch the fear lacing through him. Nothing stopped the sheer panic of having Darcy out of his presence. He missed her more already than anything he'd ever missed in his entire life. It was like his heart was gone.

The light from the skylight faded from day to dusk to night. Harry couldn't even begin to think about eating anything. He paced from one end of the tiny shed to the other, unable to shake the nausea he felt when he thought about what was happening outside. Was Darcy safe? Had she found help? Had Ben discovered her?

He didn't know how long Darcy had been gone before he heard the sound of the outside door to the shed creaking open. It was a sound which had been evoking terror for almost eight years.

Harry shuffled to the furthest corner by the door, prepared for Ben to enter, furious.

What he wasn't prepared for was the absence of the _beep beep_ which always preceded Ben's entry. Instead, there was the sound of something against the door. A clanging. A clanging which brought hope to Harry's heart.

It took a few interminable minutes, but eventually, the door was forced open, and two police officers came through the doorway.

At the sight of the open door, all the fear and anguish of the last few hours melted away. Harry fell to his knees, tears pouring down his face. Could it really, finally, be over?

The female police officer gently asked, "Are you Darcy's Papa?"

Harry nodded, scrambling to his feet. "Where is she?"

"She's just outside," the officer told him.

Harry pushed his way past the officers and out of the shed. He barely noticed the misty rain falling in the outside air he hadn't breathed in years. His entire focus was on getting to Darcy.

He ran through the yard and through the gate, finding four police cars in the road, all with lights flashing. He scanned the windows of each car until he saw her. She was banging on the window, crying out his name. He raced to the car and tried to open it, but he couldn't.

"Open it!" he yelled. "Open the door!"

As soon as he heard the click indicating the door was unlocked, he yanked the door open. Darcy flew into his arms.

"Papa, Papa!" She buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. He cried right along with her. It was finally over.

The female police officer who had helped bust open the door of the shed came up from behind and urged Harry into the police car. Continuing to hold Darcy tightly, Harry allowed her to guide them into the back seat.

Harry ran his hand through Darcy's hair. "Shh, baby. You're okay."

"Papa?" Darcy whispered into his ear.

"What?" he whispered back.

"Can we go to bed now?"

Harry smiled softly. He had no doubt she was beyond exhausted. "Sure. They'll find us somewhere to sleep soon."

Darcy pulled back to look at his face. "No, Papa. Bed. In Room."  
  
As she rested her head back on his shoulder, Harry thought, _"Never."_

The police officer behind the wheel began to ease the car onto the road. The female police officer turned to Harry. "I'm Officer Parker. Your daughter was very brave tonight."

"The bravest," Harry agreed.

"And you are…?"

He met her gaze. "I'm Harry Styles." It was the first time he'd spoken his own full name in seven years, seven months, two weeks and one day.

* * *

Harry had assumed the police would take them to the hospital, but instead, they took him to the police station to give his initial statement.

He refused to put Darcy down, so she passed out on his lap while he gave the police an account of when Ben took him, a general idea of what had transpired through his years of imprisonment, and what had led to their escape.

When the police decided they had enough information to get started with their investigation, Officer Parker drove Harry and Darcy to hospital. They were given a cursory examination, then installed in a private room. At his request, the nurses helped Harry push the two twin size beds together to make one larger bed.

Harry had just tucked an already-sleeping Darcy under the covers of the bed closest to the door when he heard a loud gasp from the doorway.

He turned from Darcy and found the person he had missed the very most while he'd been held captive all these long years. His mother. He burst into tears at the sight of her.

Her hands were covering her mouth, but she quickly moved them to take her son in her arms, squeezing him as tightly as she could.

While in the shed, Harry had worked incredibly hard to keep himself together. At first so he wouldn't give Ben the satisfaction of seeing him fall apart and once Darcy arrived so she would feel safe, confident Harry was in control.

Wrapped in his mother's arms, Harry allowed himself to let go. He cried for all the time he'd lost, all the pain he'd endured, and all the anxiety he'd been carrying since he'd woken up in that shed, sixteen and alone, at the mercy of a predator.

He had no idea how long they stood there, but eventually, he ran out of tears, and his mum guided them to a pair of chairs in the corner of the room.

The chairs were situated next to floor-to-ceiling windows. It was late enough that it was dark as pitch outside, but there were plenty of lights from the cars passing on the motorway below, the windows of the office and residential buildings nearby, and the moon.

As he looked out the window at more life than he'd seen beyond a TV screen in a very long time, his mother grabbed his hands in hers and leaned forward. Harry tore his eyes away from the windows to look at her.

"I can't believe you're alive," his mum said, her eyes still watery.

"I can't believe I'm here, out of the shed," Harry returned. "I really didn't know if my plan would work. I thought I might be there until I died."

Anne couldn't help herself. She had to get up and hug him again. She didn't let go for several long minutes. Harry certainly didn't mind.

When they sat back down again, Harry glanced over to check that Darcy was still asleep. When he returned his attention to his mum, she had a wistful smile on her face.

"So, that's her?" she asked in a soft voice. "They told me when they called that she had managed to escape and helped the police find you."

"That's her," Harry confirmed. "Her name is Darcy. She just turned five."

"And she's…yours?" Anne's voice dropped to a whisper.

Harry nodded. "She is."

Anne drew in a cleansing breath. "I'm so sorry, baby."

With a violent shake of his head, Harry said, "No. She's nothing to be sorry for. Without her, I'd still be back in that shed. She saved my life. She's been saving my life since the day she was born."

His mother nodded her understanding. "Of course." She glanced over at her granddaughter. "I look forward to meeting her."

"She may be a little shy at first, but I know she'll just love you," Harry told her. After a beat, he wanted to know, "Where's Robin? Where's Dad?"

Anne sighed. "I didn't want to hit you with too much tonight, but I guess you'll find out soon enough. Robin passed away last June from cancer."

Harry's eyes widened, horrified. "He's gone?"

"He is, baby," she confirmed. "But he never stopped believing you were out there somewhere. He would have been so excited to have you back."

Tears pooling in his eyes once again, Harry wrapped his mother in his arms. "I'm so sorry, Mum. I wish I could have been there for you."

"I know. It's not your fault," Anne assured him.

Now Harry wondered what else had dramatically changed in the time he was gone. "Is Dad okay? Gemma?"

"They're fine. Your dad's on a business trip, but he's getting the first flight home, and Gemma's getting on a train from London first thing in the morning. You'll see them both tomorrow," she said.

"I can't wait." Harry couldn't stifle a large yawn.

"Oh, baby, you must be exhausted," Anne said. "You should get some sleep."

"Will you come back first thing in the morning?" Harry inquired.

"The minute they'll let me in the door." Anne stood to pull him into another hug. When she let him go, she had her own question. "Did they tell you when you can come home?"

"The doctor said we could discuss that in the morning," Harry reported. "I just want to get out of here and come home."

"I can't even imagine. Now, get some sleep," his mother ordered. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Harry nodded. "See you tomorrow."

Harry walked her to the door and, after one more tight hug, watched as she disappeared down the hall.

More weary than he'd been in quite a while, Harry stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt, then crawled into bed with Darcy. Gathering her in his arms, he pressed a kiss to the back of her head. He then lay his own head down. The day caught up to him all at once, and he was asleep in mere minutes, his long nightmare finally over.

* * *

When he woke up, it took him a moment to remember where he was. He was out of the shed. The early morning light streaming in through the window was a dead giveaway. It was almost too bright for his eyes, but Harry welcomed it all the same.

Darcy was still fast asleep, so Harry slipped out of bed as gingerly as he could. After a detour to the loo, he walked over to the window and looked outside. Outside!

It felt like every dream he'd had since the day he was taken. The sun he hadn't quite ever been able to see through the skylight. The blue sky dotted with clouds. The cars driving by on the motorway below. Tiny people walking along the path in the nearby park. It was life. People going to work, coming home from work, hanging out with friends, exercising. So much going on around him.

It had felt like time stood still in the shed. Life was exactly the same day in and day out. Even once Darcy had arrived, there was a repetitiveness to each day that was soul-destroying. He was more than ready to put that behind him and carve out something meaningful. Even if he had no earthly idea what that was.

Someone in the doorway cleared their throat. Harry turned away from the window to find a doctor standing in the doorway, a chart in her hands. Harry was bad at guessing ages, but thought she was probably in her late thirties. She had dark hair and kind eyes, and now that he thought about it, she had been the one to examine him--and Darcy--last night. It was all kind of a blur.

She smiled at him, but didn't move any further into the room. "Good morning, Harry. I'm Dr. Callahan. Do you remember me from last night?"

Harry nodded. "Come on in."

The doctor glanced at where Darcy lay in the bed. "She seems to be sleeping okay."

Looking over at her, too, Harry said, "I think yesterday was a lot for her. She was pretty exhausted."

"Can we chat?" Dr. Callahan asked.

Harry gave her another nod. "Sure."

She walked over to the chairs in the corner and sat in the same one his mother had sat in the day before. Harry sat down, too, and said, "Good morning."

"How did you sleep?" Dr. Callahan inquired.

"I woke up a few times, but overall, pretty well." The hospital bed had been strange after so many years on the twin bed in the shed, but he'd felt safe, so sleep had come fairly easily.

"I can't even imagine your ordeal," the doctor went on. "Is there anything you think may be a medical problem, either with you or with your daughter?"

"Darcy's fine. She's never really ever been sick, aside from the occasional tummy ache," Harry explained.

Dr. Callahan nodded. "That makes sense. She wasn't exposed to very much. How about you?"

"Well, several years ago, he grabbed me by the wrist, and I'm pretty sure it gave me a really bad sprain, if not a fracture," Harry told her. "It aches every once in a while."

"We can x-ray it and see what's going on," the doctor responded, jotting something down on her chart. "Anything else?"

"I slept okay here, but I'm a little worried about what it's going to be like at home," Harry confided in her. "Every time I close my eyes, I see nothing but that shed and…him."

"That makes sense. I'm sure there will be an adjustment period. You just have to give yourself time."

"I'll try," Harry said.

"It might help to get someone to talk to," Dr. Callahan went on. "A therapist, perhaps."

"I'll think about it," he promised.

"Anything else?" the doctor inquired.

"I don't think so. Not right now anyway"

Dr. Callahan consulted her notes. "Darcy is five, is that correct?"

Harry nodded. "She turned five on March fifth."

"Your pregnancy…was it normal?" the doctor asked, her tone careful.

Harry was surprised by the question, though he supposed he shouldn't have been. He'd carried and given birth to the baby of his captor. He shrugged at her question. "I have no idea. He gave me a book, and everything kind of matched."

"Did he help deliver her?"

"No," Harry answered. "I was by myself. I was in labour all night, then I pushed her out in the morning."

The doctor nodded. "At some point, I'd like to examine you to make sure there are no lasting effects from having been through an unmonitored pregnancy and an unassisted birth."

"Not today," Harry requested. "Please."

"Not today," the doctor readily agreed. "Plenty of time for that later."

"When can I go home?" Harry changed the subject, uncomfortable with the current conversation.

"Well, I really think it would be a good idea for you and Darcy to stay at least a few days," Dr. Callahan suggested.

"But nothing's wrong with either of us, and I really just want to go home with my mum," Harry countered.

"It's your call, of course," the doctor conceded. "No one's going to keep you here against your will. You've been held against your will long enough."

"Thanks," Harry told her, a yawn escaping him.

"You should get a little more rest. Visiting hours start in a couple hours. I'll check in a little before that, and hopefully by then Darcy will be up and you can have some breakfast," Dr. Callahan said, standing up.

Harry rose to his feet, too. "Sounds good."

The doctor left the room, and Harry climbed back in the bed next to Darcy, still out cold. Memories of Darcy's birth flooded through his mind. He had been more scared than he'd ever been in his entire life. He'd never had to talk about it, though, and he knew that time was over. Everyone was going to want to know about it. He'd be curious, too, if it hadn't happened to him.

He pushed all the thoughts from his mind into the familiar black box to deal with later. He then fell back to sleep, knowing he needed to build up more energy to face the rest of the day.

* * *

"Papa! Papa!"

For the second time, Harry needed a moment to remember that they were no longer in the shed. The white ceiling and floor-to-ceiling windows made him sigh with relief.

Darcy was sat beside him on the bed, regarding him with curious eyes. He pulled her in close and kissed her forehead. "Good morning, bug. I was awake earlier, but fell back to sleep."

"Papa?" she questioned him. "Are we on another planet?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope. Same planet, just a different spot. This one is a bedroom in a hospital."

"Are we sick for real or for pretend?" Darcy wanted to know. It was a logical question given that she'd recently learned about acting on TV.

"We're not sick. We're the opposite of sick," Harry explained. "We're just here so they can check us out."

"How long are we staying?" Darcy continued her interrogation.

"Not very long. Your granny was here last night, and she's going to take us home the minute the doctors say we're okay," Harry told her.

"What about the Grampa Robin?" Darcy inquired.

Harry frowned. "Grampa Robin got sick and died last year. Grampa Des was just on a trip, but he's coming home today. Auntie Gemma will come to see us, too."

"That's a lot of someones," the five-year-old noted, no doubt a little overwhelmed.

"That's a lot of someones who are going to love every little inch of you," Harry returned, tickling her belly to make her giggle.

The phone on the side table rang, startling both of them. Harry picked it up.

 _"Good morning, Mr. Styles. This is Dr. Callahan,"_ the voice on the other end said.

"Good morning," Harry returned, feeling slightly awkward on the phone, having not used one in a very long time.

 _"Is Darcy awake?"_ Dr. Callahan asked.

"She woke up just now," Harry replied. He glanced over at a wide-eyed Darcy, who had never seen Harry on a phone call. He gave her a reassuring smile.

 _"Shall we bring in some breakfast?"_ the doctor wanted to know.

"That would be great. Could you give us about twenty minutes?" Harry requested, wanting time to get a shower.

 _"Sure,"_ she agreed easily.

"Thank you," Harry said.

 _"See you soon,"_ Dr. Callahan told him.

Harry hung up the phone and looked over at Darcy, tucking a curl behind her ear. "Hey, bug, let's go clean up in the bathroom."

Darcy looked at him a little sceptically, but she clambered off the bed all the same, then followed Harry into the adjoining bathroom.

When they walked in, they were faced with a large mirror set over the sink.

Harry bent down and put his hands on Darcy's shoulders, adjusting her body so they were straight on in the mirror. "Look, Darce. That's us."

Back in Room, Ben had provided them with a very small mirror, but this was the first time Harry and Darcy had ever seen themselves together.

After staring at the pair of them for a few seconds, Darcy tilted her head up to look at Harry. "Papa, is Ben ever going to find us?"

Harry got down on his knees to look at her eye to eye, smoothing her hair out of her face. "No. He will never, ever find us. Now, shall we get undressed and take a quick shower?"

When Harry had gotten their clothes off, he threw them in the rubbish bin.

Darcy gasped. "Papa, that's waste!"

"We'll get new clothes. Better clothes," Harry explained.

"For Sunday Treat?" Darcy asked guilelessly.

"There are going to be so many treats, bug. And not just on Sundays," Harry promised her. "But for now, it looks like they've left us some gowns to change into until we get those new clothes." He gestured to a pile of two blue gowns--one large, one small--that had been left on the bathroom counter.

Darcy was quite wary of the shower, and at first, she hesitated to get under the stream of water. Harry let her take her time. After all, every second she took to think was another second Harry could luxuriate in his first shower since before he was taken. Harry was just about to exempt Darcy from the shower when she relaxed enough for him to scrub her down and wash her hair.

They had just finished combing out their hair and changing into the fresh hospital gowns when there came a knock at the door.

"Papa, the door's ticking," Darcy told him.

"I hear it. Come in," Harry called out.

It was Dr. Callahan at the door. She was pushing a rolling cart with two plates set on top. "Good morning. It's nice to see everyone awake in here."

Harry smiled at her while Darcy tried to meld into his side. "It's okay, Darcy. It's just Dr. Callahan, here to check on us."

The doctor rolled the cart over, settling it in front of where Harry and Darcy sat at the end of one of the hospital beds. "As promised, here's some breakfast for you."

"It smells delicious." Harry reached over to lift the lid off the first plate, revealing some pancakes, sausages, and fruit. "Darcy, look, pancakes. Do you want to try some?"

Darcy was too busy eyeing Dr. Callahan warily to consent to trying the food. She'd never had pancakes before, as Ben had never brought what they'd need to make them.

Harry began to cut through the stack of pancakes. "There's syrup to pour over them in that little jug. It's sweet and sticky. So yummy."

Still watching the doctor cautiously, Darcy ignored Harry's comments.

The doctor squatted down so she was eye level to Darcy. "Hi, Darcy. I'm Dr. Callahan. How are you this morning? You were still asleep when I came in to talk to your father earlier."

Darcy gave her a bit of a side-eye, not willing to speak to her just yet.

"The food's pretty good here," the doctor whispered conspiratorially. "I think you'd like it. You must be starving after all your adventures yesterday."

Harry used a fork to spear a piece of pancake, dipping it in some syrup. "Here, bug. Try it?"

Darcy shook her head.

"Maybe in a minute, then," Harry said amiably. He knew it would take some time for her to get used to having all these different choices about what to eat and drink, and he was determined not to push her.

Dr. Callahan straightened up to address Harry. "I've brought some gifts for you."

"Oh?" Harry looked up at her.

Nodding, the doctor pulled some items from her pocket. "Two pairs of sunglasses. These should make being outside a little easier." She handed him two cases, and Harry set them on the bed. Dr. Callahan pulled out two prescription bottles from of her pocket next. "The first is for you to take when your wrist is aching, the second is in case you have any trouble sleeping. Just like we talked about this morning."

Harry vaguely recalled voicing concerns about being able to sleep once he was back home. "Thanks," he said, taking the bottles and setting them next to the sunglasses.

She reached into her pocket yet again, and she pulled out a surgical mask. "This is for Darcy."

"Is that really necessary?" Harry questioned sceptically.

"There are a lot of germs in the air that she hasn't been exposed to," Dr. Callahan reminded him. "Until she gets used to it all, that might help."

Harry was still unsure, but he took the mask all the same. "Thanks. Again."

The doctor cleared her throat. "So, have you thought any more about what we talked about earlier? Staying here in the hospital a little longer? After all you and Darcy have been through, it might be good for us to assess you both a little more closely."

"We're fine," Harry insisted. After a beat, he backed up just a bit. "You don't really think anything's wrong with Darcy, do you?"

"She seems perfectly healthy," Dr. Callahan conceded. "You took excellent care of her and you got her out while she's still so young."

"She got herself out," Harry corrected.

"Of course."

"I just want to go home and start putting all of this behind us," Harry explained.

The doctor nodded. "I completely understand."

Harry was about to open his mouth to thank the doctor for all she'd done when two voices in the hallway caught his attention. He knew those voices. He was proven correct when his dad walked through the door, his mum hot on his heels, a suitcase in her hand.

Practically leaping from the bed, Harry threw himself in his father's arms. "Dad."

"Harry," his father, Des, whispered in his ear. "I can't believe you're here."

"I'm okay," Harry tried to assure him. "I'm okay now I'm out."

His mum grabbed him next, getting in a tight hug of her own.

When they were done, they all turned their attention to the bed. Darcy had curled herself up into a ball, one eye looking curiously through her hair.

Harry walked over and sat on the bed, putting a hand on the swell of her back. "Darcy, bug, it's okay. This is your Granny and Grampa, the ones I told you about."

"Hi Darcy," Anne greeted her in a soft voice. "We're so happy to meet you. You're such a brave little girl."

Darcy uncurled herself and climbed into Harry's lap, burying her head in his shoulder. He was fairly sure that she believed if she could no longer see the strangers, they couldn't see her either. "I'm sorry," he said on her behalf.

His mother shook her head. "No need to apologise. I'm sure this is all very overwhelming for her."

"She's met a lot of people in the last day, and that's definitely new for her," Harry concurred.

"We'll give her all the space she needs," his mum promised.

"Absolutely," his dad chimed in.

Darcy was very tense in his arms, so he rubbed gentle circles into her back, feeling her relax slowly.

"So," Anne inquired, "did the doctors say when you can come home?"

It was only now, looking around, Harry realised Dr. Callahan had left them to their family reunion. He told his mum, "Not exactly, but they know I want to go as soon as possible."

"Are they worried about a problem with you or Darcy?" Des asked.

Harry shrugged. "I think they're just curious."

"Well, I'm going to go talk to them," his father announced. "See if we can get you released."

As much as Harry wanted to take care of things himself, he was more than happy to let his dad deal with the doctors. Especially since Harry was unwilling to be too pushy--a by-product of years of having zero control. "Thanks, Dad."

Des left the room in search of Dr. Callahan, and almost the second he was gone, Anne's mobile rang.

"It's Gemma," she told Harry. "Give me just a second." She went to sit in one of the chairs in the corner.

Harry was left alone with Darcy. He pulled her away from him just a little bit. "Hey, bug. This is all pretty scary, huh?"

She nodded very seriously. In a quiet voice, she said, "It's a lot of real people, Papa."

He smiled down at her. "It is. But I promise they won't bite."

Darcy's eyed went wide, then immediately narrowed. "Are there real peoples that bite?"

"No. There aren't," Harry assured her, sorry he'd used that particular expression. "Darcy, Granny, Grampa Des, and Gemma, they're your family. Our family. I know it's a little scary, but I think you'll love them once you get to know them."

Harry knew Darcy really had no concept of what it meant to be a family, but he couldn't wait for her to get a taste of it. He knew it would do them both a world of good.

* * *

Des got the doctors to agree to a slightly more thorough round of exams for both Harry and Darcy, then they were willing to release them.

After submitting both Harry and Darcy to a head to toe examination, Dr. Callahan gave Harry a list of different doctors and therapists to contact once he was home--a paediatrician, a psychiatrist, a general practitioner, and several local therapists--and cleared him and Darcy to go.

When they returned to their hospital room, there was a surprise waiting for them.

Harry barely had time to process the presence of someone else in the room before she squealed and threw herself at him. It was his sister, Gemma.

"Oh my God," she whispered in his ear. "I can't believe you're here."

She held on for a long time, then reluctantly let him go. "Let me look at you." He squirmed at her scrutiny. "Your hair is so long, and you're definitely taller, but it's amazing to see you."

"You, too, Gem." She was decidedly older, and her hair was blonde and shorter than he remembered, but she still had that twinkle in her eyes that he loved, and her smile was wide and warm. He had not really allowed himself to acknowledge just how much he'd missed her. Now he didn't have to anymore.

As one, they turned to find Darcy hugging the nearby wall, warily watching the siblings reunite.

"Darcy, this is your Aunt Gemma," Harry made the introductions.

Gemma had clearly been forewarned about Darcy being a little skittish. All she did was squat down to speak, giving her niece plenty of space. "Hi, Darcy, it's so nice to meet you."

Just as she had her grandparents, Darcy refused to speak to Gemma, instead moving to stand behind Harry.

"Sorry about that," Harry said to Gemma, offering a small smile.

Gemma shook her head. "No, absolutely understandable."

"So," Anne piped up from behind Gemma, "did the doctors finish?"

Harry nodded. "They said we're good to go."

Des pulled in a deep breath, then said, "Then that brings us to the next hurdle, now we're past the doctors."

"Hurdle?" Harry questioned him.

"You might want to sit for this one," his dad suggested.

Darcy was still clinging to Harry's leg, but he easily scooped her up to sit on the edge of the bed on the far side of the room, facing the chairs where his mother and father sat. Darcy sat so she could rest her head in the crook of Harry's neck, while Gemma hovered behind their mum.

"What is it?" Harry wanted to know, a pit settling in the bottom of his stomach. He sensed this was absolutely not good news.

"Well, it seems the media has figured out you're here," Des explained. "I think last night, they knew that someone had been rescued, but they didn't have your name. Today, it's pretty clear that someone--a nurse or a janitor, maybe someone over at the police station--must have let it slip that it was _you_ who was rescued."

"Is it really that big a deal?" Harry wondered aloud.

"You're the kid from _X-Factor_ who disappeared and was presumed dead," Gemma told him. "Now you're back after almost eight years with a small daughter? That's a very big deal."

"But I was barely in the band," Harry protested.

"It really doesn't matter," Anne joined the discussion. "It's still a really big human-interest story."

"At some point, you may want to give some interviews," Des continued. "But for now, we need to sneak you out and get you to your mum's."

"Will there be media there, too?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Anne answered matter-of-factly. "They were there when we left this morning."

"You won't need to say anything today, Harry," his father promised. "Let them speculate all they want to for now, and we'll sort it out later."

Harry nodded, even though his head was spinning, He'd seen the stories about himself on the news back when he'd first been taken, but he had assumed that after all these years, no one would really care anymore. Apparently, he was wrong.

"We were thinking your mum could pull her car around to the back and pick up you and Darcy, and Gemma and I can leave through the front to deflect," Des proposed.

"Works for me," Harry agreed.

Harry and Darcy had no belongings. Anne had brought them fresh clothes to change into, jeans and a jumper for Harry and smaller jeans and a smaller jumper for Darcy--borrowed, Anne explained, from a neighbour with a five-year-old--as well as warm winter coats for the outdoors. She'd brought socks and shoes for them both, too. The socks were fine, but when Darcy tried putting the shoes on, she immediately wanted them back off. She'd never owned shoes before. Yet another thing she would have to be eased into. Harry didn't force it this time. He would just carry her to and from the car. He did have her wear the surgical mask, just in case; blessedly, she did not fight that edict.

When Harry and Darcy were ready, Des and Gemma bade them goodbye until they met up back at Anne's. Anne waited a couple minutes, then went to get the car, leaving Harry and Darcy to say their farewells to the staff that had helped them. One nurse called Davis would escort them out to Anne's vehicle.

They all walked to the bank of lifts and when one came, they rode it down to the basement. The plan was to walk through the basement to the back of the hospital, where Anne would meet them. Darcy was silent the entire way, but she was clearly taking in everything they encountered.

The walk through the main hallway in the basement was not a long one, and when they emerged into the sun-drenched back car park, Anne was waiting for them. Harry shook Davis's hand and thanked him for everything, then he and Darcy climbed into the back of the car.

After many, many years, months, and days, it was finally time to go home.

* * *

Darcy was transfixed by what she spied out the window the whole way home. It was a sunny late winter afternoon, and there was plenty to see in the taller buildings of Manchester to the more suburban houses as they entered Cheshire. Harry let her take off her mask, which she smiled at, but she didn't say a word, just drinking in the new experience of being in a car for only the third time in her life--and the first in broad daylight.

As predicted, the media were camped out on Anne's front lawn. There were white vans parked all up and down the street, with men and women crowded around, some with microphones, some with cameras.

As Anne drove slowly to urge the people to allow her to pull into her drive, she said, "You just pick her up and run to the front door. Say 'no comment' to anyone who asks you a question. We'll get an official statement worked up soon."

"Okay," Harry agreed readily.

Once Anne threw the car into Park, Harry jumped out of the car, then reached back in to grab Darcy, urging her to hide her face in his neck to keep he photographers from getting a clear picture of her. Holding her tight, he did as his mother had ordered, and he ran for the front door.

Members of the media crowded around him as he sped up the path, all of them shouting questions. It was impossible not to take some of them in.

"What was it like in the shed?"

"Did you try to escape?"

"Why did you risk sending your five-year-old daughter out of the shed?"

"Did you know your band got famous?"

Anne was not far behind them, and she quickly unlocked the door and ushered Harry and Darcy inside, shutting the door soundly behind them.

After Harry set Darcy down and helped her off with her coat, he peeled off his own coat and toed off his shoes. While he was setting them neatly against the wall--Darcy watching him carefully--the front door opened, and Des and Gemma squeezed through.

"Damn, they're persistent," Des commented. He looked to Harry. "You didn't answer any of their questions, did you?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope."

"Good."

Stepping out of the foyer into the main part of the house was both like stepping into the past and stepping into the future. Harry took his time walking down the short hallway into the lounge.

His mother had not changed very much, but he did notice some new photos of Gemma and a man he didn't recognise, as well as photos of Anne and Robin at their wedding and at events Harry had missed. There were still the same photos of himself sprinkled in. It was nice to know he hadn't been forgotten.

In the lounge, it was more of the same. The red easy chairs were the same, but the inviting blue suede couch was new. The TV was bigger, but his mum still had a line of photo frames on top of the mantel. Just as in the hallway, the photos were a mix of new and old.

Anne ushered Harry and Darcy onto the couch, then asked if they needed anything. "I could make some tea or coffee. I have plenty of sparkly water and diet sodas, too."

"Tea would be nice," Harry replied. He looked down at Darcy--pressed to his side as if she were glued there--and inquired, "Do you want anything?"

Darcy waved him close, then whispered, "I want some juice."

Harry relayed the request to his mum, who went off to prep the drinks while Des and Gemma sat down in the easy chairs. Looking back at Darcy, he did some whispering of his own. "You know, you can talk to people other than me. Remember, I promised they won't bite."

Darcy shook her head. "No, thank you," she told him softly.

Harry let it go--for the moment. He pulled in a deep breath and looked back up at his dad and sister, not quite sure what to say.

He was saved when Gemma's mobile pinged. She picked it up and studied the screen. "Michal says to turn on the BBC1 news."

Des grabbed the remote from the coffee table--also new--and flicked on the TV, changing the channel to BBC1.

Harry met Gemma's gaze. "Michal?" he asked.

"Boyfriend," Gemma returned. "I'll explain later."

He'd hold her to that, shifting his attention to the TV.

The blonde news anchor was just at the beginning of her story. "The man, Ben Morgan, was apprehended by police while trying to flee. A witness had provided a description of his truck and licence plate number, and Morgan was caught at a petrol station just outside Birmingham when the manager recognised his truck by the description he heard on the radio."

Ben's mug shot was displayed on the screen, and a shiver ran down Harry's spine at the sight. He didn't think he'd ever stop having that reaction.

"Morgan held Styles in a shed in his backyard in Warrington from July 2010 when he abducted him in Holmes Chapel, Cheshire. Styles--a former _X-Factor_ contestant--was sixteen at the time of his abduction and was held captive with a daughter he gave birth to in 2013," the news anchor continued. "Ben Morgan is being held without bond until he can be held accountable for his actions."

The anchor was moving on to a new story when Anne reappeared with a mug of tea for Harry and a glass of juice for Darcy. "Was that a story on the kidnapper?" she wanted to know. Harry guessed she'd heard the last part of the report.

Des turned the TV off. "Yes! They've caught the bastard."

"Thank God," Anne said, sitting down on the sofa. She carefully left a fair amount of space between Darcy and herself.

Harry sipped at his tea, trying to calm himself down. He'd known it was happening--that his story was being shared on the news--but hearing it for himself was surreal. Everyone who heard or read about it would know exactly what had happened to him. Everyone would know his business. When he'd been starting out on his _X-Factor_ adventure, he'd known he was going to be on TV and people would scrutinise him. This was a whole different thing. People would scrutinise the violations Harry had suffered for the entire time he'd been in that shed. And no-one, absolutely no-one, had the right to do that.

He set his mug down hastily. "I'm kind of tired. It's been a long day."

Anne set her own mug down. "Of course. Why don't you go and have a lie-down?"

Harry nodded and stood up, Darcy and Anne following suit. Anne led the way to the stairs which went up to the second storey.

The small procession came to a screeching halt when Darcy spotted the steps. Harry realised somewhat suddenly that these would be her first stairs. Where there had been stairs at the police station, he had carried her, and there had been none at the hospital. No wonder she was flummoxed.

When Anne looked back to check they were behind her, Harry said, "We'll be right there. We need a minute to conquer these stairs."

"Take your time," Anne returned. "I'll meet you in your room."

Anne disappeared after clearing the top stair, leaving Harry alone with Darcy.

"You can climb these, bug. It's just one foot, then the other, then the other. Here." He held out his hands to her, and she took one of his in each of hers. "We'll do it together."

It was slow going, but with Harry taking each step with her, Darcy made it up the stairs with only a couple stumbles. He guessed she would be a pro in no time.

Once they were upstairs, they walked down the hall to his old bedroom. Anne was waiting outside the door, opening it ceremoniously for them, then stepping back to let Harry in.

Harry was stunned. His room was exactly as he'd left it. It looked like nothing had been touched. It had been dusted, so at least it didn't have that museum feel, but everything was just where he remembered. The pile of books he'd been trying to get through that summer, the photos he'd stuck in the frame of his small mirror, the stack of clothes he'd been considering for the trip to Robin's cottage.

"You kept it the same," he commented to Anne.

"I always hoped you'd come back, and I wanted it to feel like home," she explained. She studied the room along with him. After a moment, she said, "We can put Darcy in Gemma's room, and Gemma can bunk with me."

Harry knew she was referring to the fact that his bedroom featured one twin bed. Before he could answer her, Darcy tugged on his shirt and he leaned over so she could whisper in his ear.

When she was done, he reported to his mother, "She wants to be in here with me."

"But--" Anne began a protest.

"It's okay. It's what we're used to," he told her. "It'll be fine. And Gemma can keep her room."

"All right, then," Anne thankfully agreed. "I'll leave you two to rest. We'll be right downstairs if you need anything."

"Thanks, Mum."

She kissed his upper arm before heading back downstairs.

"Darcy," Harry said, "this was Papa's room before he was in Room."

Darcy turned in a slow circle to take in the room. "But where's the bath and the sink? There's no fridge or toilet."

"Those are all in other rooms. The bath, the sink, and the toilet are in the bathroom, and the fridge is in the kitchen," Harry explained. "This room is a bedroom. It's just for holding clothes and sleeping."

Harry could tell he had once again blown Darcy's mind with new information. There was so much for her to learn, and he wished he could dole it out in small doses--and he'd try with some things--but some of it was going to have to be a big information dump Darcy was going to have to sort through.

A big yawn overtook Darcy's small face just then. Unsurprising, given the events of the last couple days.

"Let's have a nap, then," Harry suggested, walking over to the bed and turning down the duvet. It was the same one he'd had since the Christmas before he was taken, a navy blue plaid duvet that was soft and fluffy.

This bed was not right up against the wall as it had been in the shed, but Harry still had Darcy get in first, then he got in and played big spoon to her little spoon.

Darcy was out in no time, her breathing evening out, secure in her papa's arms.

It took Harry a little longer to fall asleep. It was so strange being back home, back in his bedroom. He'd dreamed of little else since he'd been taken, but now that his dream was a reality, it was different than he imagined. Too much had happened for it to feel the same.

He had as much to get used to as Darcy, but he wasn't going to get used to it all in one day, and besides, he was going to need all the rest he could get to do so. So, it was once again time to tuck his thoughts into the black box and get some sleep. There would be plenty of time for adjusting later.

* * *

The first thing Harry saw when he woke up in the morning was the poster he'd hung on the wall the day after The Script concert he'd gone to not long before trying out for _The X-Factor_. It took him a long moment to process that he was home. Really, truly home.

When he turned his head, he found Darcy standing at the window looking outside.

"Good morning, bug," he greeted her.

She looked over her shoulder at him, a small smile on her face. "Papa, there are trees outside. They're real, right?"

"They are. We can go outside later, and you can check them out," he promised her. He sat up and ran a hand through his long hair. He was going to need to cut it soon. The length was going to start to remind him of the past, and he wanted to move forward.

"Papa, I'm hungry," Darcy broke into his reverie.

"Then let's go see what Granny has in her kitchen." Harry threw back the duvet and climbed out of bed.

He detoured them both by the loo, then held Darcy's hands as she tackled heading down stairs for the second time. She was starting to get pretty good at it; in no time, she'd be racing up and down the stairs like a pro.

Anne and Gemma were already in the kitchen when they arrived, sipping coffee or tea at the table. They both grinned widely at the sight of Harry and Darcy entering the room.

"Good morning, my sunshines," Anne greeted them.

"Morning, Mum, Gemma." Harry returned their smile with somewhat less wattage given he had only recently woken up.

Darcy clung to Harry, choosing to remain silent. Harry's smile became apologetic as he explained, "She does speak. I promise."

"She can take as much time as she wants," Anne said. "Now, are you two hungry?"

"Yes," Harry answered, showing Darcy to an empty seat at the table, then taking the one next to her.

They ate a leisurely egg and bacon breakfast, during which Harry, Anne, and Gemma discussed lighter topics--the weather, recent TV, a book Anne had just read--while Darcy watched on with big, interested eyes.

The last dish was being placed in the drainer when Des arrived, accompanied by a lawyer he'd retained to handle Harry's affairs.

In the lounge, Gemma pointed out some toys which had been sent over the day before from some of their neighbours who had heard Harry was back, and with a five-year-old in tow. She got a silent Darcy intrigued with a set of Legos, and Gemma played with her so Harry could focus on the lawyer. So long as Harry remained in her view, Darcy seemed content.

The lawyer introduced himself as Charlie Baxter. He was a man in his mid-thirties who exuded equal parts competence and compassion. The minute they were all seated, he opened, "I know everyone is very happy you're home, Harry. I'm so sorry about all you've been through, and I know you're just getting settled here, but there are some things that need to be discussed."

Harry nodded. "I know. The media is out there still, and I know the police would still like another interview."

"For the media, I'd suggest writing a statement, which I can deliver on your behalf. I can also request that the police come here to interview you. You're a victim, not a criminal. You shouldn't need to leave the house for that," Charlie insisted.

"How soon would I need to do the interview?" Harry asked.

"In the next day or two," Charlie said. "They're trying to put together the whole case, and the more information they have and the sooner they get it, the better."

"Okay." With a shaky hand, Harry picked up the tea he'd carried into the lounge and took a sip. "That makes sense." Even if he had no desire to relive anything for a perfect stranger--ever--he knew he really had no choice.

"At some point, you might want to consider giving a televised interview," Charlie went on. "Nothing live, but something that can be edited. We'd approve it before it aired. That would curb a lot of the media questions."

Harry had known that he would need to speak to the media at some point. As Gemma had suggested back at the hospital, his was a big story. A kidnapped sixteen-year-old _X-Factor_ contestant who'd been held captive for over seven years with a child to raise. He knew he'd be perversely curious if it wasn't him.

"Harry?" Charlie prompted. "What do you think?"

"Do you really think I should?" Harry inquired. "Do an interview, I mean?"

"I do," Charlie answered. "People are curious. You don't have to share anything you're uncomfortable sharing, but I think it's a good idea."

"Mum, what do you think?" Harry asked, turning to look her in the eye.

"If you get comfortable with the idea, I think it might be a good thing to do," she offered her advice. "People are curious, and a lot of them want to see that you're okay."

Harry knew she was right, so he nodded, then reverted his gaze to the lawyer. "Okay, I'll do it."

"I'll get to work on that straight away, then." Charlie made some notes on a pad of paper.

"Is there anything else?" Harry wanted to know.

"Not at the moment," Charlie replied. "Just take your time getting used to being at home, and let me know if there's anything I can do. I'll let you know as I arrange for the police and television interviews."

Everyone stood and shook Charlie's hand before Des showed him out.

Anne sidled up to Harry and wrapped her arm around his waist. "You okay there, kiddo?"

"I don't really know," Harry told her honestly.

"That's okay," she returned. "You're allowed not to know."

Darcy came running over, then, trailed by Gemma. The little girl slammed into Harry's legs and looked up at him balefully. She had clearly had enough time with new people.

"We're going to take some time upstairs," Harry announced. "If that's all right…?"

"Absolutely fine," Anne assured him. "We'll be here if you need us."

Harry took Darcy's hand in his before leaning over to kiss his mother's cheek. "Thanks, Mum. We'll be back soon."

* * *

In the middle of their second night at home, Harry woke up in a cold sweat. He'd had a nightmare featuring Ben, and he had no desire to go back to sleep and perhaps land right back in that nightmare.

Darcy was still sound asleep. He had, thankfully, not disturbed her rest. He slid out of bed and padded down to the kitchen. He was hoping his mum still kept the cocoa where he remembered.

The cocoa was right where it had always been, in the cupboard just to the right of the stove. It only took five minutes to heat some milk, and he carried a steaming cup of hot chocolate to the lounge, curling up in one corner of the sofa to sip it.

As the warm drink chased the nightmare away, Harry contemplated his place in the world, a world so much bigger than the one he'd been living in for far too long. No more was his only reason for living Darcy. He had so many options. So many, in fact, that he found it hard to focus on any one option.

His contemplation was interrupted by a soft "hey" from the entry to the lounge. He looked up to find Gemma standing there.

"Hey," he returned. "Did I wake you up?"

Gemma shook her head. "Not used to sleeping alone. I woke up all on my own."

Though Harry had told her it was unnecessary, Gemma had insisted on staying in Holmes Chapel despite the fact that she now lived in London. She had told him she wanted to be there for Harry and Darcy. Her life in London could wait.

"Would you like some cocoa?" Harry offered, putting his own cup down.

"That sounds amazing," Gemma accepted.

"Here. Sit," Harry ordered. "I'll go get it."

Once Gemma had a mug that matched Harry's, Harry reclaimed his spot on the sofa--and his own cocoa.

"So…. What kind of work have you been doing that you can so quickly take time off to come see me?" Harry wanted to know.

Gemma smiled. "I would have come no matter what job I had, but I've been doing a lot of freelance writing the last few years, so my schedule is very flexible."

Harry smiled widely. "What topics have you been writing about?"

"A lot of stuff to do with mental health and social media," she replied. "I find it all very therapeutic."

"Maybe you can help with my mental health," Harry said wryly.

"I'll help you any way I can," Gemma vowed seriously, reaching over to pat his knee.

"Thanks." Sipping at his cocoa, Harry changed the subject. "I look forward to meeting Michal. How long have you been together?"

"About five years. He can't wait to meet you," Gemma returned. "We just thought you and Darcy could use a few days to adjust to being home before being confronted with new people."

Harry smile turned soft. "I appreciate that."

Gemma took a sip from her mug. "So, how are you doing? Really doing?"

Harry shrugged and took another drink. "I don't really know."

"I can't even imagine what it's been like for you," Gemma admitted. "All of it. Being taken, being in that shed all these years, coming home. It seems like…a lot."

"It is," he confirmed.

"Darcy's very sweet," she complimented him. "Even if she won't speak to anyone. You've done a good job with her."

"I tried," Harry said. "I had nothing to go on but how Mum was with us."

"Lucky we have such a great mum," Gemma remarked.

"She'll start speaking soon enough," Harry went on. "She's just got to get used to people other than me. Once she does, I promise she won't shut up."

Gemma chuckled. "I look forward to that."

After another sip of his cocoa, Harry made a confession. "I don't know what to say in an interview."

"You mean for the police?" Gemma clarified.

With a shake of his head, Harry said, "No, not them. That's straightforward. The television interview. I know what they'll want to know. I just don't know if I can talk about any of it."

"Then don't," Gemma suggested. "Tell them it's none of their business."

"But people are curious," he countered. "They want to know what happened to me."

"What did happen to you?" Gemma asked softly.

Harry immediately felt himself stiffen at the question.

Gemma backpedalled just as quickly. "It's okay, H. You don't need to answer that.

Now Harry shook his head. "No. I need to talk about it, even if it's hard."

"Take your time," Gemma assured him. "And you don't have to tell me anything you're not ready to share."

Harry nodded and hauled in one deep breath, then another before setting his mug down on the coffee table. "He told me he had a sick dog in his truck. Like an idiot, I went to help, and he knocked me out with ether. When I woke up, I was in the shed. He had it all ready. He'd planned it. There was a bed, a sink, a toilet, a tiny kitchen."

"Sick bastard," Gemma interjected, putting her own drink down.

"He left me alone for the first twenty-four hours or so, then he came almost every night." He pointedly met her gaze to make sure she understood what Ben had done on his nightly visits. The horrified look on her face confirmed that she did.

"I got pregnant the first time about eight months after he took me." Harry clapped a hand over his mouth, inadvertently mirroring Gemma. He hadn't meant to say that. He'd stored that whole period of time in a box in the deepest, darkest recesses of his brain. Apparently, that era was done being a dirty little secret.

Gemma's voice was barely a whisper when she asked, "The first time?"

Harry couldn't stuff it back in the box now that he had someone to share his burden with. "I didn't know what was going on at first, but then when I was sick all the time and my belly started to grow, it was clear I'd gotten pregnant. Ben brought me a book about pregnancy, but that was it. I had to figure it all out from there. He kept visiting, though, every night, right up until I went into labour. The baby came so fast, and Ben was no help, just screaming and trying to pull him out of me. The baby was born with the cord around his neck, and he never took a breath. I don't even know where Ben took him."

Tears were streaming down Gemma's face as everything spilled out of Harry for the first time. Harry realised he was crying, too, everything that had happened rushing back into his memory.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so, so sorry." Gemma reached over and drew him into her arms.

She held him as he cried for a while, then, when his tears eased up, he leaned back to continue.

"I got pregnant the second time the next June. I was so petrified the same thing would happen. I insisted Ben stop visiting except to bring food and clothing when I got to be about seven or eight months, and I told him he couldn't be there when this baby was born. I'd do it myself," Harry said, remembering how he'd had to be forceful with Ben when docile was his usual mode of operation. Fortunately, Ben had not wanted any part of going through a second birth, so he'd stayed away when it was clear the baby's arrival was imminent.

"He listened to you?" Gemma inquired, her voice still low.

"He did. I was in labour all night this time. It wasn't fast, like the first time. Right after sunrise, Darcy was born, crying from almost the moment she was out." That was a much happier memory, when his little girl had been born, saving him from a life of solitude from that moment on.

"You've really done such a great job with her," Gemma remarked. "It can't have been easy."

"Sometimes it wasn’t," Harry said, "and Ben definitely regretted getting me pregnant. Right after she was born, he started me on birth control pills so it wouldn't happen again. He didn't want to have to pay for more than one baby."

Gemma shook her head. "I truly can't even imagine what it was like for you. You're the bravest person I know, surviving that."

Something suddenly occurred to Harry. "Can this be just between us, what I just told you? Don't even tell Mum."

This time, Gemma nodded vigorously. "Absolutely. It's just between us. And you know you don't need to tell the interviewer anything but the basics. They don't have the right to know more than that, however curious the public may be."

Harry nodded. "Thanks for listening."

"Thanks for sharing. I'm glad you trust me enough," Gemma said, her eyes bright with sincerity.

"I used to talk to you and Mum in my head sometimes," Harry confessed. "I trust you more than anyone in the world."

Gemma moved forward for another fierce hug. "I love you, H." When she released him, she met his gaze and added, "And I mean it, you've done an amazing job, keeping yourself and Darcy sane through everything."

"I had no choice," Harry said, shrugging.

"Don't say that," Gemma chided. "You absolutely had a choice, and you chose to do what was best for that little girl. Don't ever forget that."

Harry yawned big just then. "I think I wore myself out." He smiled sheepishly.

"Then why don't we get back to bed." Gemma took his hand and pulled him up with her. When he reached for his cocoa mug, she said, "Leave those for later. Sleep now."

Harry gave no argument as he followed her back up the stairs and into his bedroom. She saw him into bed, where he curled around a still-sleeping Darcy.

No matter how terrible the things he had gone through to get her, he was still beyond thankful she'd come to him. She had been meant to be.

* * *

Charlie read a simple statement for the media. It said that Harry and Darcy were thrilled to be back home with Harry's family after so long in captivity, and it asked for privacy as the family adjusted. Harry made sure thanks for everyone's prayers and good wishes were included, too.

The police had no problem coming to Anne's to interview Harry and take his statement. They would undoubtedly have follow-up questions as the case went forward, and those would be presented at Anne's as well.

The television interview was scheduled just two days after Charlie's visit. The lawyer had secured Mishal Husain, a well-respected BBC reporter, to conduct the interviewer. She had agreed to interview Harry at Anne's home, and she had also agreed to work from a list of approved topics, though she submitted a few ideas of her own for Charlie and Harry to review.

To get ready for being seen on TV, Gemma cut Harry's hair. It had grown way too long over the years in the shed, and he was ready to have it short again. Gemma had always cut his hair before he'd gotten through to _X-Factor_ Boot Camp, and he trusted her to make it look decent for the interview.

Once she had declared his hair was perfect, Gemma helped Harry pick out a nice pair of khaki trousers and a dark blue jumper. His mum cried a little, remarking on just how grown up Harry had become. Harry knew he wasn't the only one who'd lost something the moment Ben stole him.

The camera crew accompanying Mishal set themselves up in Anne's formal sitting room. Mishal spoke to Harry personally while the crew was getting everything ready.

"Thank you so much for doing this," Mishal said warmly. "I know the public is very anxious to hear from you. They want to know what you and your little girl went through and how things are going for you now."

"Thank you for agreeing to interview me with all my lawyer's rules," Harry returned.

"Absolutely," she told him. "I will, of course, stick to the topics we agreed upon. If it gets to be too much or a question is too invasive, just tell me 'no comment,' and we'll move on. I don't want this to be uncomfortable."

Harry nodded. "Okay."

Before Harry was ready--though he wasn't entirely sure he'd ever really be ready--they were all set to start. Harry sat in a chair opposite Mishal, cleared his throat and waited for her to open the proceedings.

Mishal smiled into the camera and began to speak. "Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Mishal Husain, and I'm here with Harry Styles, the _X-Factor_ contestant who was kidnapped in July of 2010, when he was just sixteen years old. A daring plan of escape involving his five-year-old daughter set them free after over seven-and-a-half years in captivity. Now they're trying to find their way in a brave new world." She turned from the camera to face Harry. "Hello, Harry. Thank you for sitting down with me."

"Thank you for having me," Harry said, butterflies dancing wildly in his stomach. He'd been on television before, but this didn't feel anything like that.

"The nation was horrified when you disappeared in July of 2010. Can you tell us a little about what happened that day?" Mishal opened with an easy question.

"I was walking through town, picking up some things for when the band was coming to stay at my stepdad's cottage so we could get to know each other." Harry stopped and cleared his throat. "This older man stopped me and said he had a sick dog in his car. I was trying to be kind, and I went with him to look, then he put something over my mouth and knocked me out. When I woke up, I was in the shed."

"That must have been terrifying," Mishal guessed.

"It was," Harry confirmed.

"Did you have any access to the outside world?" Mishal asked next.

"I had a television which had very basic satellite programming," Harry told her. "I kept up with the news and could watch some shows."

"So you were aware that a search was going on for you?"

Harry nodded. "And I was aware when I was no longer really in the news." That had been painful, realising everyone was moving on.

"What about the band? Were you able to keep up with what they were doing?" Mishal inquired.

"I was. I got to see them perform, and I caught a lot of the interviews," Harry replied.

"And how did that make you feel?"

It took Harry a moment to come up with the right words. "Left out. I should have been there. That whole experience was stolen from me."

"By your captor, Ben Morgan," Mishal clarified.

Harry nodded. It was still odd to hear a surname attached to Ben's name. He had always just been "Ben."

"He's in jail awaiting trial. Is that in any way satisfying?" Mishal wanted to know.

"He can never pay enough for all the things he did to me," Harry said firmly.

"One of the things he did was get you pregnant with your daughter Darcy, who's now five years old."

Harry offered another nod.

"I can't even imagine how difficult it must have been to raise her in such a small space," Mishal stated, leaving the door wide open for a variety of responses Harry could give.

"It wasn't always easy, but I did the best I could to give her a good childhood," Harry chose to say. "We played games, we read books, I taught her to read and count. She's a happy, healthy little girl."

"A lot of credit goes to you for that," Mishal said. "But did you ever consider, after she was born, asking your captor to leave her at a hospital or a church to be found?"

The question was like a sucker punch. "Why…why would I do…that?" Harry stuttered softly.

"To set her free. Give her a more normal life," Mishal explained her meaning.

"No," Harry responded. "She belonged with me. She's mine. And I'm her father. I took care of her."

"Of course." Mishal's tone became soothing. After a beat, she went on, "What are you going to tell her about her other father when she's older?"

This was something Harry had given some thought to. "As little as I can. I'm the only father she needs. Just because he helped create her doesn't give him any rights, not after everything he did."

Mishal nodded. "Let's switch gears a little here."

Harry pulled in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Then he nodded, too. "Okay."

"You were gone a long time. Did you ever think you would see this house, your family, again?"

"I hoped to," Harry answered. "It was certainly my biggest dream."

"What do you think you'll do now you're back?" she inquired.

Harry breathed in deeply once more. "Well, when I was in the shed, I didn't spend too much time imagining what I would do if I was able to escape. I guess I did in the beginning," he backtracked, "but the longer I was there, the more depressing it was to think about."

"That makes sense," Mishal assured him. "You were on track to be a singer. Is that something you might pursue?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe I've missed my shot at that. I was interested in physiotherapy at one time. I might look into that. I don't know."

"Well, you have plenty on your plate dealing with integrating yourself and Darcy into life outside that shed," Mishal needlessly reminded him. "There will be time enough to figure out what you want to do for the rest of your life."

Harry nodded, not sure there was anything he could add.

"Harry, was there anything you wanted to say to the public before we let you get back to the business of picking up your life?" Mishal asked.

"Just thanks so much for all the warm wishes," Harry replied. "We really appreciate it. It means a lot to have so much support."

"We all wish you and Darcy the very best," Mishal stated. "Thank you very much for taking time out to talk to us."

"Thank you," Harry returned simply, reaching a hand out to her. She shook it warmly, then looked from one cameraman to the other. "I think that's it."

Mishal explained that they would edit the interview and send it over for approval before it aired, but that it would probably air as soon as Harry gave them the go ahead. Then she and her crew packed up and left.

Leaving Harry alone with thoughts he'd never had before. Thoughts he could have done without.

* * *

Wanting to get away from the unwanted thoughts left behind from the interview, Harry excused himself from his family and escaped with Darcy to their shared room, and they both took a nap.

As they'd laid down to rest, it had still been daytime, but the sky outside was growing dark when Harry awoke again. As his brain shifted into gear, his mind swiftly began rehashing the interview, particularly the deeply discomfiting parts. His mind hadn't gotten far, however, when he realised Darcy wasn't in bed with him. Instantly worried--and abandoning all thoughts of the interview--he jumped out of bed to check the bathroom they'd been sharing. She wasn't there, though, so he rushed down the stairs.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he walked into the lounge. There, he spotted Darcy and Gemma playing with a pair of dolls on the floor next to the toybox Des had brought in to hold Darcy's new stash of playthings.

Better still was that Harry could hear Darcy actually talking with Gemma. Her little voice was pitched at a whisper, but she was definitely conversing with her aunt. He felt tears prick at his eyes. For once, they were happy tears.

Darcy spotted him and beamed up at him. "Look, Papa. I'm playing with Auntie Gemma."

Harry took a moment to compose himself before saying, "I see that, bug."

"Can we keep playing?" Darcy asked.

"As long as it's okay with Auntie Gemma, sure," he allowed.

Gemma's grin was almost as big as Darcy's as she told her, "Of course." To Harry, she said, "Mum's in the kitchen making some tea. We'll eat in just a little while."

"I'll be right in the kitchen, Darcy, okay?" Harry told her.

"Okay, Papa." She returned her attention to the dolls she and Gemma had been busy dressing.

As advertised by Gemma, their mother was working at the stove in the kitchen, frying up some sausages for their tea.

"Good evening, Mum," he greeted her.

"Good evening, baby," she returned. "Glad to see you up again. Did you see Darcy playing with Gemma?"

He nodded, grinning at the reminder of what Darcy was up to. "She's even talking with her. I knew it was only a matter of time."

"Sit down," Anne ordered. "I'll get you a cup of tea."

Harry didn't argue that he could do it himself, but rather sat down in his traditional chair at the table. She soon came over with a steaming cup of tea prepared just the way he liked it.

"Mmm," he hummed after his first sip. "I missed tea."

"He didn't bring you any tea?" Anne asked.

Harry shook his head. "Not any good tea, anyhow. Nothing ever tasted like yours."

Anne went back to the stove and moved the sausages from the frying pan to a serving plate. She turned the hob off before moving to sit opposite Harry. She appraised him carefully before gently inquiring, "So, how are you feeling about the interview? I could tell some of it was hard for you."

He didn't answer straight away, taking a moment to shuffle through his thoughts. Patient as ever, his mum waited him out, sipping at her own cup of tea.

Finally, he posed the questions which had been most prominent in his brain ever since the interview. "Do you think I should have let Ben take Darcy from the shed? Was it right to keep her with me?"

Anne immediately reached across the table to cover his hand with hers. "Oh, baby, you did exactly what you needed to do. You took care of that little girl and gave her everything you could. You're her father."

"But would she have been better off out in the real world?" Harry went on, still distraught by the thought that he might actually have done wrong by his daughter.

"Nobody can know that," his mother pointed out. "What's obvious is that she's a happy and healthy child. She's going to be fine. You both are."

"Are you sure?" Harry checked.

"As sure as I can be," she assured him. "You're both so strong to go through what you went through in that shed. The real world's going to be easy compared to that."

Harry smiled softly at her, grateful for her faith in him. "Thanks, Mum. And thanks for everything you've done since we got out."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Anne stated firmly. "You know, everyone tried to tell me to move on, that you were surely dead. But I knew I would be able to tell if you were gone. I never, ever gave up hope. Nor did your dad, Robin, or Gemma. And here you are."

Harry got up to go around the table to give his mother the tightest hug he could give her without cutting off her oxygen. "I missed you so much," he whispered into her ear.

"I missed you, too, baby. Every single day."

When he finally let her go, he added, "Thank you, too, for accepting Darcy, despite how she got here."

Anne lifted a hand to wave the idea of anything different away. "She's yours, so she's ours. I couldn't love her more."

"Neither could I." Harry returned to his seat on the other side of the table. "She truly saved me. More than once."

"Then I owe her a debt of gratitude I can never repay," Anne remarked.

"Me, too," Harry concurred.

"So, they'll probably send over the interview tomorrow," his mum continued. "Are you ready for that?"

He took another moment to really consider her question, then he nodded. "I think so. I'm looking forward to it airing, then just getting on with things."

"Fair enough," Anne agreed. "Now, what would you say to some tea? Ready to eat?"

"Your food?" Harry grinned. "I'm always ready for that."

* * *

Anne was right: in the middle of the afternoon the next day, Charlie came over with the interview that had been sent by courier. Harry asked Gemma to watch Darcy while he, Anne, and Charlie sat around Charlie's laptop and watched what the BBC had cut together. Des had, unfortunately, had to return back home to get back to work, but he had said whatever the rest of the family decided about permission to air the interview was good for him.

There was not much they thought needed to be tweaked. Charlie thought they needed a little less melodrama in their intro, and he wanted them to trim some of the more melancholy parts of the interview. Otherwise, they all three of them agreed that it would do for public consumption.

Charlie took their notes back to the BBC and was told the interview would air as a special report the following evening. Then Harry's story would be out there for all to hear.

The biggest initial effect of the interview actually airing was the departure of a lot of the media from Anne's front lawn. The BBC had gotten the scoop. Hearing the vans leave was a great relief.

Harry didn't watch the interview again. Living it, then watching it once was plenty. While it aired, the family had a meal together, still revelling in everyone being together once again, Darcy being a welcome addition.

The second effect was even bigger than the first. In the middle of the morning following the interview being aired, Harry and his sister were in the lounge hanging out while Darcy played with some of her toys when Gemma's mobile rang. When she answered the call, her face expressed great surprise at the voice at the other end.

Harry really didn't pay her much mind--he was busy admiring Darcy's latest Lego creation--until Gemma held out the phone. "Harry, it's for you."

"For me?" With wide, questioning eyes, Harry took the phone. "Hello?"

 _"Harry, is it really you?"_ The voice was very familiar. It took just a moment for Harry to realise who was speaking.

"Louis? Louis Tomlinson?" Harry was flabbergasted.

 _"Harry, I can't believe it's you. I can't believe you're home,"_ Louis said, his tone incredulous.

"I'm still getting used to it myself," Harry admitted.

 _"Is it okay that I'm calling?"_ Louis wanted to know. _"Everyone told me I should wait. Give you a little time to process being back. I couldn't wait any longer, though."_

"It's fine for you to be calling," Harry assured him, even though this was one of the most surreal things that had happened in the last five days--and that was saying something, given all that had happened to him in the last five days.

 _"How are you doing?"_ Louis asked next.

"Everything is a lot…if that makes sense," Harry told him.

 _"It does,"_ Louis said.

Silence reigned for a moment before Harry cleared his throat to ask his own question. "Where are you?"

 _"Milan,"_ Louis answered. _"It's the last stop before we play the last concerts of this tour in London. We come back to the UK tomorrow."_

"Milan. That's exciting," Harry said, trying hard not to be overwhelmed by the reminder that for one brief moment, he was a part of this band that was so big, their tour was stopping in the fashion capital of the world.

 _"It's been a fun tour, but it will be nice to be home for a while,_ " Louis confessed. _"Do you think I could come by?"_

"S-sure," Harry stuttered.

 _"I'll call once I'm back in the UK,"_ Louis promised. After a beat, he added, _"I'm so glad you're home, Harry."_

"Thanks," Harry returned. "I'll have Gemma text you my new number."

 _"Great! See you soon,"_ Louis said.

"Yeah. See you soon."

And with that, the surreal conversation was over, and Harry was handing Gemma's phone back to her.

"That sounded like it went okay," Gemma noted carefully.

"That was Louis," he stated, even though he knew full well Gemma knew that. "He wants to come by."

Gemma smiled softly. "They were so heartbroken when you were taken, especially Louis. They almost didn't go to Judges' Houses, but the show told them that if they made it through and you came back, you'd still be a part of the band, and they agreed to go."

Harry had not known this, and he had no idea how to feel about it. So he filed the information in the back of his brain to process later.

"They check in every once in a while," Gemma went on. "And they've donated a lot of money to the search effort."

"Search effort?" This was the first Harry had heard of this, too.

"Everything started here, but now it's based at my house, since I live in London. Flyers, a website. We never stopped looking for you, H," Gemma told him.

"That's what Mum must have been talking about when she said she never gave up," Harry said, connecting a few of the dots.

"Well, part of it, yes," Gemma confirmed. "Though it was more than just that. She never let anyone assume you were dead, never stopped calling the police to see if they had any leads, never stopped thinking you were out there somewhere."

Tears pooled in Harry's eyes at the thought of his mother's tenacity. In Room, he had often despaired that he had been forgotten, even though he knew his mother would never, ever forget him. This was proof that his faith in her was not misplaced in the slightest. Apparently, he had a lot more people to bring into his circle of faith, if all these people had put so much effort into trying to find him.

"How do you feel about seeing Louis again?" Gemma asked, appraising him intently. "I know you and he were getting close when you were…taken."

"We were," Harry agreed. "But we were both at the start of things then. Now he's rich and famous, and I spent more than seven years held in a shed by a whack job. I'm not sure what we're going to have in common anymore."

"I haven't talked to him a lot over the years, but I think he's a really good guy. I think you'll find you have more in common than you think," Gemma guessed. "If nothing else, he's a friend. We can all use good friends."

Harry nodded. "True enough."

Darcy came over at this point, distracting Harry with her request for a snack. He relegated the impending visit with Louis to the back corner of his mind. Focusing on Darcy was easy, but there was nothing easy about the idea of seeing Louis Tomlinson again. Not a thing.

* * *

Sleep had been easier in the shed. Not at first, of course, when Harry was so scared and unsure of what was going on and when Ben would come. Once he got used to the routine, though, sleeping was pretty easy, even preferable to being awake--especially before Darcy arrived.

Now that he was home, he found himself unable to sleep through the night. The night following Louis' phone call, he was awoken suddenly from a nightmare that felt so real that he had to spend a fair amount of time grounding himself, locking his gaze on familiar items in the room to remind himself of when and where he was.

Darcy had, so far, had no problems sleeping, and she thankfully slept through Harry's bolting up in bed and his heavy breathing while he sorted out the nightmare.

There was no way he was getting back to sleep. As he was getting used to doing, Harry slipped out of bed as gingerly as he could, then headed downstairs.

The clock on his mum's microwave told him it was 3:37 a.m. Harry sighed and brewed himself a cup of tea before settling down on the sofa in the lounge. Picking up the remote, he turned on the telly, turned down the sound, and searched for a mindless romantic comedy on Netflix to watch. _Notting Hill_ would fit the bill beautifully.

Anna Scott was discovered at Will Thacker's house by the press when a feather-light touch on his shoulder startled him. He jumped, then turned his head to find his mother standing there.

"Sorry, baby," she said softly. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Harry shook his head. "No, it's okay. Did I wake you?"

It was Anne's turn to shake her head. "No. I think mother's intuition did. Can I sit?"

Harry paused the film on the television. "Sure."

Anne came around to sit next to him on the sofa, and he turned so he could look at her.

"So, why are you up at four in the morning watching Netflix?" his mum wanted to know. "Not that _Notting Hill_ isn't a wonderful movie, but I'm guessing this is about more than an urge to take in a good romantic comedy."

"I had a nightmare," Harry confessed. "And now I'm wide awake."

"Want to talk about it?" she asked.

Harry's first instinct was to say no. He didn't want to worry his mother any more than she already was. The look on her face changed his mind. It was soft and warm in the light from the television, and he could tell she wanted to help him. He just hoped she was truly ready to hear all the things he needed to share.

"Okay," he said, his voice shaking.

Anne reached out a hand to cover his knee. "Whatever it is, I'm here. There's nothing you can say that will scare me away. I may get angry at the man who stole you from us, but nothing you could say would make me feel any differently about you. I love you more than life itself."

Harry threw his arms around his mother, once more flooded with relief that he was home again.

When he let her go, she prompted him, "Now, do you remember your nightmare?"

With a nod, Harry told her, "It was so real. When I woke up, it took me a minute to realise it had just been a dream."

"I certainly know what that's like," Anne empathised.

"I was being interviewed again, but by Louis," Harry went on. "We were here, where Mishal interviewed me, and everyone was standing in a circle around us. You, Dad, Robin, Gemma, Darcy, Niall, Liam, Zayn."

Anne nodded encouragingly. She was following what he was telling her.

"He was asking me all these invasive questions about what it was like," Harry said softly. "I would tell him a little bit, but it wouldn't be enough, then he pushed for more and more and more. When I had shared more than I wanted to, he began to call me all kinds of names, telling me it was all my fault. Everyone watching was joining in with Louis, shouting at me. Even Darcy."

His mother blew out a puff of breath. "That sounds awful."

"It was," Harry confirmed. "It felt like it was really happening."

"I can't even imagine," Anne said, shaking hr head slightly. "But you know no one thinks any of this was your fault, don't you?"

Harry nodded.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say you're a little bit nervous about seeing Louis." She raised her eyebrows knowingly.

"What if he really thinks I didn't fight every minute?" It was a huge fear--that someone would believe there was something he could have done to change his fate.

"I know he doesn't think that," Anne assured him. "Because absolutely nobody does. We all know you did everything you could to survive, Louis included."

"I hope so," Harry said.

"You got to see the band on TV?" his mum inquired.

Harry nodded again. "I got to see most of _X-Factor_ , then interviews every once in a while."

"I'm so sorry you had that all taken away," she told him, her smile sympathetic. "It's beyond unfair."

Harry shrugged. He'd more or less accepted that his part in the band was long gone, even if he still ached for it whenever he saw the band perform or give interviews. He'd known they had to move on without him, but at the same time, he did resent it just a little bit.

"It may be awkward with Louis at first, but you were well on your way to becoming friends when you were taken," his mum pointed out. "I think you'll still find you have some things in common, even if you have to hunt for them a little."

"Do you really think so?" Harry was so unsure.

"I do," she stated firmly.

"Well, since you're my mum, I guess I have to take your word for it," Harry allowed.

Anne smiled. "That's right. Mothers are always right."

Harry smiled back at her. "I missed you so much."

"Not nearly as much as I missed you," Anne countered.

They leaned into another hug, and as they parted, Harry yawned.

"Maybe you can try some more sleep now?" his mother suggested. "Hopefully talking about the nightmare will keep it away."

"Maybe," Harry said, though his tone was dubious.

"Just remember, we all think you're the bravest person we know," Anne insisted. "I'd bet a great deal of money that goes for Louis, too. However awkward things might be at first, I don't think it's likely to be as terrible as your subconscious imagines."

"Thanks, Mum."

Anne stood and offered Harry a hand up, which he took. "Let's head back up. I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted."

Harry took the TV remote in hand once again and shut the television off. Will and Anna would have to wait until later. With any luck, much later.

* * *

True to his word, Louis called Harry's new number the following afternoon, explaining that he had just gotten home from Milan. Their show had been a good one, but Louis told Harry he was happy to be back in Doncaster, his hometown.

Louis asked if he might be able to come by the next day, and Harry suggested that he come by at lunchtime, figuring if nothing else, they could discuss the food. Louis readily agreed.

Harry spent another restless night, waking several times, completely psyching himself out about seeing Louis in person again. Just after six a.m., he gave up trying to sleep entirely, leaving Darcy still asleep while he trudged downstairs in search of some coffee.

He was sipping his coffee at the kitchen table when his mum appeared. She, like him, had always been an early riser. In the shed, there hadn't really been a reason to get up early--only to get up when the baby needed to be tended to. Now he was only up because he couldn't really sleep. His mum, however, clearly hadn't changed.

"Morning, baby," she greeted him.

"Morning, Mum," he returned sleepily.

"I'm going to get a tea and join you," she said.

Minutes later, she fulfilled her promise and sat down across from him, her hands wrapped around a mug with cats on it.

Harry stared at the mug for a moment, then it was if a memory exploded in his mind. "What happened to Dusty? Is she not around here somewhere?" Dusty had been their cat at the time he'd been taken, and Harry had loved her dearly. She had been very young when he was taken; she could still be around.

"Oh, she is, and she has sisters. Three of them, Dotty, Evie, and Maybe," she told him.

"Where are all the cat things?" Harry wondered aloud, looking around the kitchen and finding no evidence there were four cats living in the house.

"I talked to one of the doctors about it, and they suggested taking them out of the house until you and Darcy got used to things. I took all of them to stay with a neighbour down the road; they're being completely spoiled. We cleaned everything thoroughly and put all of their things in the basement," Anne said. "That's why you don't see any cat stuff."

Harry sighed with relief. "I was beginning to question my observational skills."

"Dusty will be as happy as we are that you're back. She still checks your room for you," Anne reported wistfully.

They both took sips of their hot drinks as Anne appraised her son with a smile.

"What?" Harry asked.

"I still can't believe you're actually home. I'm so very, very happy you are," she replied.

"Me, too. Believe me. Me, too."

After a few more sips of caffeine, Anne had a question. "How are you feeling about seeing Louis today?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I'm excited to see him, but I'm also still really nervous about how it's going to go."

"What have you told Darcy?" Anne wanted to know.

"Nothing yet," Harry confessed. "I'll tell her over breakfast. I just want to keep it nice and light, though she knows I was on _X-Factor_."

"She does?" His mother seemed surprised.

"I was trying to explain to her about the real world," Harry said. "I think she believed me, but meeting Louis will hopefully cement it. She knows who he is."

"You'll just have to give her time to get used to another new person," Anne remarked.

Harry nodded as he lifted his cup of coffee to his lips, needing to wake up a little bit more.

Perhaps Darcy's ears were burning, because just that moment, she walked into the kitchen. She walked right up to Harry and indicated pretty clearly that she wanted up in his lap. He acquiesced.

"Good morning, bug," he said to her.

She turned to look back at him. "Good morning, Papa." She then turned to Anne and whispered, "Good morning, Granny."

Harry looked down at her with shock. It was the first time she had initiated any kind of conversation with Anne--any conversation with anyone, for that matter. She'd been sticking mostly to shakes and nods of her head and whispered answers in Gemma's or Anne's ear when Harry wasn't around to speak for her. This was a wonderful improvement.

"Good morning, Darcy," Anne returned with a wide smile. "How are you this morning?"

"Fine," Darcy whispered back, adding, "I'm a little hungry."

"Your papa and I can take care of that," Anne told her. "Would you like some eggs this morning? Maybe some sausages?"

Darcy nodded vigorously.

"Eggs and bangers coming up." Anne stood and headed for the fridge.

As Harry lifted Darcy off his lap and onto another chair, she asked, "What are bangers, Papa? Can we eat them?"

Harry chuckled. "That’s just another word for sausages."

"I like sausages," she went on.

"You're a sausage," he teased, tickling her side before leaving her to help his mum cook breakfast.

It wasn't too much later that the three of them were tucking into some cheesy eggs, browned bangers, and toast.

Harry knew it was time to bring up Louis. Darcy's openness with her grandmother this morning boosted his confidence; she seemed in just the right mood to accept the idea of meeting someone else who was significant to her papa.

He finished his bite of sausage before jumping in. "So, bug, we're going to have a visitor here at lunchtime."

"A visitor?" Darcy mumbled through a bite of egg.

"Finish your bite first," Harry automatically corrected.

She did as he asked and swallowed before saying it again. "A visitor?" Her voice was soft, but she didn't seem to mind that Anne was listening in.

"Do you remember me telling you about being on _The X-Factor_?" Harry inquired.

Darcy nodded. "You got stolen before you could go on Judges' Houses."

Well, that still stung. Harry breathed in deeply. "Right. Well, those boys I was put in a band with? Niall, Liam, Louis, and Zayn? They became One Direction."

Darcy's eyes grew wide. She knew that name. "The singing boys from the music planet?"

"They weren't actually on a different planet," Harry clarified. "They were on this one, same as us. But yes, the singing boys."

 _"That's what makes you beautiful,"_ Darcy sang softly before biting into a piece of toast.

Harry looked over at his mother. "I used to sing it to her," he explained.

"I'm sure you did it beautifully," she stated with a wistful smile.

"Anyhow," Harry turned his attention back to Darcy. "Those boys were all my friends before I was stolen, especially the one called Louis."

"The one with the fringe and the blue eyes?" Darcy checked.

"That's him," Harry confirmed. "So, he's coming here for lunch to see me and to meet you."

"Really?" Darcy seemed a little dubious.

"Really truly," he assured her. He continued, "You don't have to talk to him if you don't want to, and he'll understand. But I wanted you to know he was coming."

"Is he still your friend, Papa?" Darcy asked.

"I hope so," Harry answered honestly. "I guess we'll find out."

"Okay." Darcy seemed content with the idea of a new person arriving soon, though that was obviously subject to change depending on how she felt when she was faced with the actual new person.

Harry would take it.

"Then let's finish breakfast. We can get a little play time in before Louis gets here," Harry said. "Maybe we can even play outside. It looks pretty nice out."

Darcy dug into the rest of her breakfast then, as Harry and Anne exchanged a look.

"I guess we'll see how it goes," Harry commented. It was all he could do until Louis rang their bell.

* * *

Anne and Gemma did their best to distract Harry in the hours before Louis was due to arrive. They talked him into doing some baking, something they had all enjoyed doing together when Gemma and Harry were younger. They invited Darcy to join in, and though she was a little hesitant at first--still overwhelmed by the large kitchen--she was intrigued by the idea of baking fresh cookies. The cake they'd made on her birthday was a very rare baking treat.

They made three kinds of cookies: chocolate chip, sugar, and oatmeal raisin. After tasting a little bit of each kind, Darcy declared chocolate chip her favourite and, even more important, that the cookies would be a perfect dessert to follow their lunch of sandwiches.

When they'd finished cleaning the kitchen, there was still a little time before Louis was due to arrive, so Harry made good on his promise to give Darcy a little outdoor time.

She wasn't great yet at unstructured outdoor play, but Harry found his old football and started to teach her how to play. Thankfully, she seemed to really enjoy kicking the ball around, and she showed quite a bit of early promise.

About a half an hour before Louis was expected, Harry got Darcy and himself changed from baking and football clothes into more presentable attire. He put Darcy in a pair of cute, pink dungarees with a white shirt underneath, and he dressed himself in jeans and a blue jumper.

Nervously, then, Harry sat in the lounge with Gemma and Anne while Darcy played with her favourite Legos. They chatted about nothing in particular until the doorbell rang.

It was the moment of truth.

Anne was the one who answered the door. Gemma, Harry, and Darcy waited in the lounge for Anne to walk Louis in. They all stood when their visitor arrived--Darcy predictably jumping right behind Harry's legs.

Harry's first thought was that Louis was absolutely stunning. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a jumper emblazoned with the Burberry name. His hair was a little darker than Harry remembered and was swept over his forehead. His eyes were shining bright blue, and he wore a tentative smile. He looked so much older than he had when Harry had last seen him in person. Harry still felt like he was sixteen in so many ways, his own older visage still a little shocking in a proper mirror.

Louis walked over and stopped right in front of Harry. He shook his head just a little bit. "I can't believe it. Harry Styles. Can I hug you?"

Harry nodded and found himself enveloped in Louis' warm embrace. It felt amazing, like coming home a second time.

When they parted, Louis met Harry's gaze. "Hi."

"Hi," Harry returned, keeping his voice low and soft.

It only took a few seconds for Harry to remember they weren't alone. "You remember Gemma?"

"Of course." Louis moved to give Gemma a quick hug.

Darcy was still hiding behind Harry's legs, so Harry gestured in her general direction. "This is Darcy. Darcy, this is Louis, the friend I was telling you about at breakfast."

Darcy didn't move, but Louis squatted so he was on her level, trying to get her to at least look at him. "Hi, Darcy. It's so lovely to meet you."

Darcy continued to eye him carefully, choosing at this point not to say anything.

"She's still finding meeting new people to be a little hard," Harry explained.

"No worries," Louis assured him, straightening up again. "She's beautiful, Harry."

Harry blushed at the compliment. Back at Boot Camp, when he'd first met Louis, he'd hung on Louis' every word, and apparently, not much had changed in that regard. "Thank you," he said. "Please, sit."

Anne and Gemma were in the easy chairs, leaving Harry, Darcy, and Louis with the sofa. Darcy melded herself into Harry's side, while Louis made sure to leave lots of personal space between himself and Harry.

There was a brief silence as everyone tried to figure out just the right thing to say.

Gemma jumped in first, giving Harry time to compose himself. "So, Louis, you just got back from Milan. How was that?"

Louis seemed as relieved as Harry felt to be starting off with an easy topic. "It was amazing. We've gotten to go there a couple times. It's definitely a different vibe from most other places. Very fashionable and continental."

"I'm sure the shopping there is amazing," Anne remarked.

"Oh, it is. We all end up spending a little money on new clothes when we're there," Louis noted with a grin.

"Is that the end of the tour?" Gemma inquired next.

Louis shook his head. "But almost. This coming weekend we do two shows at the O2, then we're done."

"Two nights. Exciting," Anne commented. "Is that fun, playing at home?"

"It is. The crowd is usually pretty wild," Louis confirmed. On what was clearly an impulse, he added, "You should all come to one of the shows."

"That would be nice," Anne answered, glancing at Harry with a look full of support. She understood what hearing about the band might be like for her son. "We'll think about it."

There was another silence that fell before Louis asked his own question. "So, Harry, how are you and Darcy adjusting to being back at home?"

Harry cleared his throat. "There's definitely a lot to get used to, but it's really good to be home."

"I can only imagine," Louis said. "We missed you so much. I know Niall, Liam, and Zayn would agree that though it's been a ride, it just wasn't the same without you. We've never forgotten that you were supposed to be part of it all."

Harry couldn't think of a thing to say in response to that, so he just offered Louis a smile of gratitude. He was truly thankful that they hadn't forgotten him. After almost eight years, he wouldn't have blamed them if they had.

"I saw the interview you did," Louis went on to say.

"What did you think?" Harry hadn't really asked anyone how they thought the interview had gone. It hadn't seemed to matter. He found himself genuinely caring what Louis thought.

"I thought it was well done. I've certainly done more than my fair share of interviews, but none about anything near that difficult," Louis said, his voice filled with admiration.

"I know people are curious about what happened," Harry explained. "I'd be curious if it wasn't me. Plus, it got all the media off the lawn."

"Wish I could get all the media off my lawn," Louis quipped, making everyone chuckle and lightening up the atmosphere.

"I guess I can relate to the invasion of the press," Harry remarked. "They were at the hospital, too. Definitely a little overwhelming."

"Well, any time you need some hints at handling the press, feel free to ask," Louis offered. "I have a lot of experience."

"Thanks," Harry said. "I may take you up on that."

When silence fell upon the room yet again, Anne broke it quickly. "So, would anyone be interested in lunch? Thanks to the kindness of our neighbours, we have an abundance of bread and sandwich meats, and I thought we could use up some of that."

"Sounds good to me," Louis agreed easily.

Already rising from her seat, Anne stated, "I've set everything up like a buffet in the kitchen. Everyone can make their sandwich and grab a drink, then we can settle in the dining room to eat."

Gemma was up next, then Louis. Harry followed last, Darcy still plastered to his legs. Hopefully over the course of lunch, she would warm more to Louis.

Everyone grabbed a plate, then made a sandwich from the various breads, meats, and cheeses Anne had set out, Harry helping Darcy prepare hers. Bottles of water and soda were procured, along with a selection of crisps, then they all worked their way into the dining area.

Anne and Gemma took the two short ends of the dining table, and Harry and Darcy took one of the long ends, leaving Louis the space opposite Harry.

For a few minutes, all was quiet as everyone began eating. While she nibbled at her sandwich, Darcy gave Louis some curious glances, clearly still trying to figure him out. Harry knew she would recognise Louis from TV, but she was still wary about any new real person; she needed to know Louis was a safe person to interact with. To his credit, Louis didn't acknowledge the intermittent scrutiny. Harry figured he must be used to people staring at him. That might be something Harry would have to get used to himself since his picture was all over the media. Something else Ben had stolen: Harry's fame for something good he'd achieved. Now all he'd be famous for was being kidnapped.

Harry was drawn from his maudlin thoughts by a question from Gemma.

"So, Louis, you've been all over the world. Do you have a favourite place?"

Louis took a sip from his water before nodding. "I have a few. I love New York. There's so much energy there. Always something going on. It's nice to go out there, too, since it's a little easier to be anonymous."

Harry had been to America when he was small, on a trip to Disneyworld. He had fallen asleep right on the kerb during the evening fireworks at the end of a long day of rides, food, and walking. It was a fond memory, and one he'd turned to every once in while in the shed. He couldn't even imagine revisiting places over and over--for real.

He dragged himself back to the present to focus on the next part of Louis' answer. "I love Amsterdam, too. It's got a great party scene, which is nice after a show sometimes, when you're all keyed up from being on stage. Zayn and I would often hit a club or two after a show there."

"Not Liam and Niall?" Gemma questioned, sounding a bit surprised.

"Oh, they'd join every once in while," Louis assured her.

In every interview Harry had ever seen One Direction give, it had been clear just how close all the boys were. If forced to confession, Harry would have had to admit he was pretty jealous they had all had such a grand experience together, while he went through some of the most horrible experiences a person can have all by himself.

"Anyplace else?" Anne wanted to know, gently pulling Harry away from the green-eyed monster.

"Hm." Louis pondered his options, which Harry knew were vast. The band had talked on television about their long world tours. "Australia is pretty cool. It's like a whole different world down there. Amazing, chill people. It's been fun every time we've gone there."

Harry needed to force himself into this conversation. He might have a few issues to work through--well, more than a few--but he needed Louis to believe he was okay. Or, at the very least, more or less okay. He was going to have to do more than just sit there and listen--that was Darcy's job right now.

He cleared his throat, and everyone at the table turned to look at him. He felt himself blush. "I'd love to take Darcy somewhere exciting. She deserves to see the world."

Darcy tugged on Harry's sleeve, and he leaned over so she could whisper something in his ear. He chuckled a little before sharing what she said. "She said she wants to visit the music planet."

"The music planet?" Louis questioned.

"Um, well," Harry stumbled to find the right words. "I told Darcy that the places she saw on TV were planets, and our shed--Room--was floating in space."

Louis' eyes opened a little wide. "That's very inventive."

"It felt like the best way to make things seem normal," Harry explained. "Even if it was a lie."

"Hey, man, you do what you gotta do," Louis insisted, clearly not judging him.

"Exactly," Gemma chimed in. "She's a great kid because of all you did."

"And, hey! She can visit a music planet. You can bring her to one of the London shows. Like I said, all of you are more than welcome." He took in everyone around the table with one sweeping glance. "I'll set you up in a great spot close to the front. She'll have the best view in the house."

"Thanks," Harry responded. "Can you put us on the list even if we're still thinking about it?"

"Absolutely," Louis assured him. "I'll set it up and send you all the details. Everyone will be so excited to see you. And meet Darcy, of course."

Harry smiled. He had no idea how it would feel to see One Direction in action. Up close. Without him. It had been one thing on TV, but in person…. If Darcy was up for the trip, though, he'd try it for her. No questions asked.

"It would be good to see everyone," Harry told him.

Louis took a bite of his sandwich before asking another query. "So, do you have any plans now you're home? I know you said in the interview you might consider physiotherapy, but maybe you still want to give music a go."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I need more time to explore my options."

"That sounds like a good plan," Louis said, smiling widely. "No need to rush."

The rest of dinner was filled with chit chat about the weather, television shows, and music other than Louis'. Harry tried to join in where he could, and Darcy continued to watch with cautious interest.

When their sandwiches were all gone, everyone chipped in to clear the table, then they retired back to the lounge with drinks and full bellies.

"So, you said you've got some time off once the London shows are done," Anne recalled. "What do you like to do in your down time?"

"Sleep, for one," Louis said. "Touring is fun, but exhausting, so I definitely like to catch up on my sleep."

Anne nodded. "That makes sense."

"I'll probably try to catch up with family and friends, too," Louis continued. "It's always hard keeping up with what everyone's doing."

"I can imagine," Anne said. Leaning forward in her seat, she went on, "That reminds me, how are things going without your mum?"

"We're hanging in there," Louis told her. "It hasn't been easy, of course, especially with the baby twins so young, but everyone's pitching in."

Smiling softly, Anne remarked, "I'm so glad to hear it. I know she's missed."

"She really is," Louis agreed.

Now that it had been mentioned, Harry vaguely recalled a news report about Louis Tomlinson's mum passing. "I heard about your mum on the news," Harry stated. "I can't even imagine losing my mum. It must be so hard. I'm so sorry."

"Thanks. It hasn't been easy, but I've tried hard to do things that would make her proud," Louis explained.

"I'm sure she is," Anne interjected. "I'm sure she's proud of all of you."

"It'll be nice to see everyone. The girls and Ernest seem so much bigger every time I see them." Louis returned to the subject of his visit home. He turned to Harry. "My mum had a second set of twins in 2014, Doris and Ernest. They just recently turned four."

"One year younger than Darcy," Harry concluded. "Maybe they can get together to play sometime--when Darcy is up for sharing. Sharing is not her strong suit yet."

Darcy understood just enough about what Harry was saying to put on a little pout, but she declined to defend herself, still cautious with Louis present.

Louis and Harry both chuckled at her reaction to Harry's assessment of her sharing prowess--or lack thereof. "That's completely understandable," Louis told him. "She hasn't had to share, and that includes sharing you. Doris and Ernest were born having to share. Give her a little time."

"She's been sharing her toys really well with me," Gemma jumped in to defend her niece.

Darcy shot her a little smile.

"Maybe we can set something up before you go back to work," Harry allowed.

"Sounds good. I know the twins would love a new friend," Louis stated with confidence. Then he yawned widely. Twice. "Oh, my God, I'm so sorry. That was not a commentary on the company. I just haven't caught up on my sleep yet. I just really wanted to come to see that you were…." He gazed at Harry, struggling for the right words.

"Real?" Harry attempted to help him.

"That, too," Louis agreed. "But okay. I think that's what I most wanted to know. That you're okay."

"I survived," Harry assured him. "I'm here."

"I'll take it," Louis offered his own assurance. "It's a bit of a drive back to Doncaster, so I should get going before I'm too tired to drive."

"You're welcome back any time," Anne said.

Louis smiled warmly at her. "Thank you."

He and Harry rose at the same time, and Louis wrapped his arms around Harry once more. "I'm so glad you survived," Louis whispered in Harry's ear. "Very, very glad."

"Me, too," Harry returned in a soft voice. He hugged Louis back tightly. He found it incredibly hard to let go.

* * *

The screaming woke him up. It took him a few seconds to realise the screamer was himself.

He shot straight up in bed and put his hand to his chest. His heart was racing. As he forced himself to take in some deep breaths, he also tried to force the vivid imagery of his nightmare away. Using the pale light from the moon outside, Harry grounded himself. He wasn't in the shed anymore. He was home, in his bedroom. He was safe. Ben was in jail. Ben would never, ever hurt him again.

When his breathing became deeper and more even, he had a new realisation. Someone was crying. It didn't even take a second to know it was Darcy.

Immediately, he wrapped her in his arms. "I'm sorry, bug. I didn't mean to scare you," he whispered, rubbing circles into her back.

Darcy was still crying pretty hard when the door to his bedroom opened, letting a sliver of light in from the hallway. Harry looked up, unsurprised to find his mother in the doorway.

"Is everything okay in here?" Anne asked softly.

"I scared her," Harry explained, feeling doubly terrible. He'd apparently woken up the entire household, not just his little girl.

"Is it okay for me to come in?" Anne requested.

"Sure," he choked out, his voice feeling raspy and hoarse.

His mother sat down on the other side of the bed, Darcy in between her and Harry. She didn't say much, but she smiled reassuringly, just being there for him.

Darcy's sobs eventually transitioned into hiccups, then she seemed calm enough to try to go back to sleep.

"I'll get her some warm milk," Anne offered. That was something she had done for Harry when he was little and needed some help getting to sleep.

Minutes later, she was back with a mug, and she stood just to the side as Harry helped Darcy with the drink. Darcy sipped slowly at the milk, her eyes becoming droopy before the mug was empty. Harry handed it over to his mother, then he slipped out of bed before tucking Darcy back under the duvet.

"Love you, bug. Go back to sleep." He kissed her cheek as she burrowed back into her pillow.

Harry made no move to get back under the covers himself. He looked up and met his mother's gaze. "I can't go back to sleep," he admitted.

"Let's go back downstairs," Anne suggested. "There's plenty more milk. I'll make some hot chocolate, and we can sit, maybe talk."

Harry nodded, kissed Darcy one more time, and followed his mother down to the kitchen. They made hot chocolate together, then sat down across from each other at the kitchen table to drink.

"We can just sit here, if you like," Anne told him. "We can talk about nothing, or we can talk about your nightmare. Whatever you want."

"I need a minute or two to just sit," Harry said, "if that's okay."

"That's absolutely okay," Anne answered. "For you, I've got all the time in the world."

With a grateful smile, Harry took his time sipping at the sweet, warm concoction. Much as he wanted to push the nightmare away, he worked on pulling the images to the forefront of his brain and getting himself ready to share them with his mother. He had to share them with someone. It was time.

"You sure you're ready to hear this?" Harry checked with her.

"No," Anne said honestly. "But I want you to share whatever you're ready to share. If it's hard to hear, it's hard to hear."

Harry would have to take her at her word. "Okay."

While taking one last long sip of cocoa, Harry decided he needed to go back much further than the nightmare. He pulled in a deep breath, exhaling it shakily. Then he began. "When I woke up in the shed, I assumed he just wanted some money. I figured he'd heard I was on _X-Factor_ and thought he'd take me and ask for ransom.

"Then I took a real look around. He'd really done his homework. Indoor plumbing and heating, a small kitchen, a table and chairs, a bed, a wardrobe, clothes, books. I realised he wasn't in it for money. He wanted something else," Harry told her.

He could tell Anne was trying to keep her face neutral, and he appreciated it. It helped him to go on. "He left me alone for what I think was a whole day. There was food in the fridge, and a TV. I was freaked out, but I made myself eat something, and I tried to find distracting shows to watch. Then he came back. He didn't tell me his name--he didn't tell me anything. The first time he just…jacked off. The second time, he told me to get undressed, and he…." The look on his mother's face let him know he didn't have to elaborate.

"He came almost every night," Harry continued. "I learned how to…project myself other places. As long as I didn't fight him, he came, he did what he wanted, and he left."

Anne reached across the table and cradled his cheek in her hand. "You must have been so scared."

"I was terrified," Harry confirmed. "And really confused, too. I had thought I might be gay. I really, really liked Louis. Then Ben…. I didn't know what to think. Still not entirely sure, if I'm honest."

"I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that on your own," Anne said softly. "I wish I could have been there for you."

"In my head you were," Harry revealed. "I talked to you all the time. Especially once I had a baby to raise. I knew if I could be half as good a parent as you, the baby would be fine."

"I'm glad I could help, even if it was in just a small way."

Harry offered her a tiny smile, then took a drink from his cooling hot chocolate. It was time to keep going. "There wasn't much that stopped him from wanting…you know…."

Anne nodded, schooling her features so they didn't give too much away.

"Every once in a while, if one of us got sick, or I fought back--which I tried a couple times--he wouldn't come for a few days. And I insisted that he stop coming when I was really, really pregnant with Darcy. Other than that, he came every night. Every. Night." He shuddered at the memory.

"So, your nightmare was about Ben?" Anne guessed.

"Yes," Harry answered. "He wouldn't stop. And I could smell the shed. I could taste the stale air. It felt so real. Like he was all around me…in me. I thought I'd dreamed I got to come home." He drew in little shuddering breaths, working hard to compose himself.

Anne got up and moved around the table to sit right next to him. "Baby, I can't even begin to imagine what you went through in that shed. No one can. I do know you're stronger than you even know."

When she offered her arms to him, Harry went into them immediately, just letting her hold him. It felt like such a luxury--being held. Growing up, his family had been huggers. His mum, his dad, Robin, his sister, all of his extended family. Hugging hello, hugging goodbye--it had been just like breathing. All those years in the shed had felt like deprivation. Once Darcy was big enough, she could be very cuddly, but that was all Harry had had. He was so grateful to be on the other side of that.

"You're home now, baby," his mother whispered in his ear. "I've got you. You're safe, and he is never, ever going to hurt you again."

"I love you so much," Harry returned, his own voice also whisper soft.

She held him for a good long time, then when she let go, she looked down to their mugs. "Refill?" she questioned.

Harry nodded. "Please." He had to admit that being taken care of was almost as good as getting hugs again.

Within minutes, Anne had produced fresh hot chocolate, filling both of their mugs to the brim. She'd even brought over a bag of tiny marshmallows to put on top. Harry covered the hot cocoa with the tiny white puffs of sugar, watching carefully as they slowly began to melt.

After a couple sips of their new drinks, Anne said, "You know I don't want to push you into anything you're not ready for, and you also know I'm here to listen, and so are your dad and your sister."

"But…?"

"But maybe now would be a good time to look into this reunification therapist they recommended at the hospital," his mother suggested.

The doctors had given them a whole host of ideas for helping both Harry and Darcy adjust to the outside world. One of those ideas had been a reunification therapist, someone who would work with Harry's whole immediate family to work through whatever they needed to, both together and as individuals.

Harry nodded. "I think that's a good idea. For me and for Darcy."

"I know there's a lot you need to deal with, and I can't even imagine how overwhelming it must be for you," Anne said.

"Well, my subconscious isn't helping whatsoever," Harry noted wryly.

"I'm sure the therapist will help you prioritise the things you need to deal with. And he or she will hopefully be able to help you get past these nightmares, as well as give us all advice on how to help Darcy adjust," his mum went on.

"That would all be very nice," Harry remarked. He looked past Anne to the clock on the microwave behind her. "Wow, it's nearly four. Maybe now I've had some warm milk, I can get a few more hours of sleep before Darcy gets up." He took another sip of his hot chocolate to validate his desire.

"It would be a good idea to try, at least," Anne agreed. "Feel free to wake me up if it doesn't work, though. I'm happy to sit up with you."

"Thanks." Harry leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "You're the best."

They stood in unison, each taking their mug in hand. Harry followed his mother up the stairs, giving her one more kiss goodnight before heading back into his room.

Harry took one or two more sips of his drink before letting the moonlight guide him in putting the mug down on his bedside table. When he checked, he found Darcy still fast asleep. Gingerly, he slipped down under the covers next to her. Fortunately, the little girl didn't waken, just moulded herself to him, her back to his chest.

He pulled the warm duvet up over his shoulders and closed his eyes. Unbidden, an image of Ben snuck into his brain. Harry simply hauled in a deep breath, then, on a slow exhale, pictured he and his family sitting around the lounge. There was a fire in the fireplace, and a romantic comedy was on the television, muted since they were all chatting. Darcy was playing with a small pile of dolls.

With effort, the image of his family all together again forced the image of Ben out of his head. Harry took a few moments to mentally pat himself on the back for the effort, then he let the serene family scene lead him into sleep. It was a most welcome victory.

* * *

The hospital had provided a list of therapists they recommended. Gemma and Harry spent part of the morning following Harry's latest nightmare doing some research. After studying websites and reading some of the literature at each one, Harry decided the person he wanted to try first was a woman called Jordan Kenton. She operated at a small farm just outside of Manchester where she kept therapy animals. She worked with both adults and children and seemed to specialise in helping families work through traumatic events.

Harry was sure he'd picked the right person when Ms. Kenton picked up the phone herself and allowed Harry to tell her about himself without ever saying she'd heard about him on the news. She said she would be happy to sit down with Harry and his family to discuss a potential treatment plan. Could they come the very next day? Harry agreed readily.

All he told Darcy was that they were visiting a woman who owned a farm. She was a little nervous about the idea of coming face to face with creatures she'd only ever seen on television, but she acquiesced and said she would give it a try. Gemma promised to stick with Darcy like glue--she'd never allow any of the animals to hurt her.

After Harry helped Anne make a big breakfast the following morning, they all headed to Jordan Kenton's farm--located about forty-five minutes from Holmes Chapel--hoping to take another big step in everybody's recovery.

The closer they got to the therapist's practice, the surer Harry felt about his decision. The countryside out the window was beautiful. Darcy glued her face to the window, excited by the new vistas just outside the car. Harry was occupied by hopes that this would be a productive trip and the start of a real recovery for both him and Darcy, so Gemma took charge of pointing out things of interest to Darcy.

Gemma's soothing voice brought Harry back to the present as Anne steered the car down a small dirt drive which led to a beautiful property lined by trees and grass that was starting to become greener now that spring had sprung in earnest.

The air was fresh and a little cooler than back in Holmes Chapel as they all piled out of the car and made their way to the front door of the charming house on the left side of the farm. Harry held Darcy's hand, and Anne and Gemma followed behind.

Harry lifted Darcy to ring the bell, and it wasn't long after that when a woman opened the door, a warm smile on her face. She was a petite brunette woman outfitted in jeans and a casual button-down shirt.

She opened the screen door to ask, "Harry Styles?"

When he nodded, she held out her hand to shake his. "Jordan Kenton," she introduced herself.

"This is my daughter Darcy, my mum Anne, and my sister Gemma," Harry made his own introductions.

"Call me Jordan," the therapist said as she shook the hands of the rest of Harry's family. "And please come in."

They all walked into the farmhouse foyer. It was very inviting, with wooden panelling and homey furniture and flowers on the tables. Family photos dotted the walls and continued into the lounge Jordan led them into.

The lounge was open and airy, with large patio doors leading to the outside, with a view of the land just beyond the house. Harry thought he spied some horses in a pen not far from the house.

"Have a seat," Jordan offered, gesturing toward the sofa and easy chairs set in the middle of the lounge. Bottles of water and boxes of tissues were set on a coffee table set right in the centre of the seating.

Harry took a bottle of water and a spot on the sofa. Darcy sat down next to him, with Gemma on her other side. Anne also took a bottle of water, then sank into one of the easy chairs. Jordan took the remaining easy chair.

"So, while I'm sorry for the circumstances, it's nice to meet you all," Jordan began. "Why don't I tell you a little bit about what I do?"

"That sounds good," Harry told her, pulling Darcy in close to listen.

"I work with all different kinds of people who've been through all different kinds of things. One of my specialities is dealing with families who've been through a trauma that affects everyone," Jordan explained. "We do some talking, work with the animals, take walks around the grounds, whatever feels right."

"Would we all work together?" Gemma wondered aloud.

"Sometimes. And sometimes, I work with clients one on one. Including children, of course." Jordan smiled over at Darcy, who sent back a tentative smile. "It depends on the goal of a session."

"That all sounds like it would work," Harry said.

"We're very anxious to help Harry and Darcy through all of this," Anne joined the conversation. "We'll do whatever it takes."

"Of course," Jordan acknowledged. "This wouldn't just be about what Harry and Darcy have been through, though. Your family as a whole suffered. We can work through all of that."

Anne smiled gratefully at her.

"It's not a quick fix," Jordan warned. "Dealing with a trauma like this can take a lot of time. With work and persistence, though, you can all put the past behind you and move forward."

"That's exactly what I want," Harry stated.

"Then if what I've said speaks to how you'd like to handle this, I'm happy to take all of you on as clients," Jordan said.

Harry exchanged looks with his mother and sister, both of whom nodded to show they thought this was going to be a good fit. "That would be great," Harry finally accepted Jordan's offer.

"Okay, then, I think it would be best if I spoke to Harry alone first," the therapist requested. "The rest of you are welcome to look around the grounds or help yourself to some tea in the kitchen. It's just through that door." She pointed to a door just behind her shoulder.

Anne and Gemma stood straight away, but Darcy clung to Harry.

"I want to stay with you, Papa," Darcy whined. Though she had been by herself in parts of Anne's house while Harry was in a separate room, she hadn't ever really been apart from him. Her reaction to being asked to leave was not surprising.

"It's okay, bug," Harry assured her. "You'll be with Granny and Auntie Gemma. I'm going to be right here with Dr. Jordan. I just need to talk to her on my own for a bit, then you all will come right back in."

"Are you sure, Papa?" Darcy asked sceptically. "You won't go anywhere?"

"I promise. I'll be right here. You can peek in through the window at me any time you like."

"Okay, Papa." Reluctantly, Darcy took Gemma's outstretched hand and allowed herself to be led out through the patio doors and onto the farm grounds, looking back over her shoulder at Harry until he was no longer in her view.

This left Harry alone with the therapist.

"So, Harry, I've heard your story on the news, but I want to hear from you what things were like and how I can best help you," Jordan started their one-on-one discussion.

"There's so much, I don't quite know where to start," Harry admitted.

"Well, how's it been being home?" Jordan inquired. "We can work backwards."

"It's so good being home," Harry replied. "For the entire time I was in the shed, all I wanted was to be back with my mum and my sister. To have that back is amazing."

"I'll bet," she commented.

"Mum and Gemma have been great. They've accepted Darcy with open arms, and they've done everything they can to make things easy, giving me space, but also being there to talk to if I need it," Harry went on.

"That's awesome," Jordan said.

"I'm having nightmares, though." Harry got to the downside. "I can't sleep through the night at all. I keep imagining myself being back in the shed, still…servicing Ben. And my mum and Gemma both know what went on, but it isn't the easiest thing to talk about with them."

Jordan nodded sympathetically. "I can only imagine."

"Also, a couple days ago I reconnected with one the guys I was in a band with before I was taken," he said. "That brought on the worst nightmare I've had since coming home."

"Was the get-together a bad one?" Jordan wanted to know.

"Not really," Harry answered quickly. "I mean, it did remind me of all that I missed. And Louis and I were…close before. So that was really odd. I have no idea where I stand or even where I want to stand."

Jordan offered another understanding nod. "And what about Darcy? Tell me about her."

Just the sound of her name made Harry smile softly. "She's wonderful. She's handling everything really well, given all she's being asked to get used to. And she was so brave, too. It's because of her that we're here and not still in Room."

"Is she having any of the same kind of trouble you are with nightmares and whatnot?" Jordan questioned.

Harry shook his head. "No. Her biggest issue has been interacting with people other than me. She's just starting to be willing to talk to others on her own and not through me, and you saw her reaction to being asked to leave me."

"Right," the therapist stated. "Her reaction was totally understandable."

They both instinctively looked out the window, and they could see Anne, Gemma, and Darcy walking toward where the horses were. Darcy turned to look through the window, and she waved happily at Harry, who waved back with a smile before turning back to Jordan.

"I don't want Darcy to suffer at all from me working through my recovery. I want her to get to experience everything she's missed and everything a five-year-old should get to do. She's missed so much already," Harry lamented.

"That makes sense," Jordan agreed. "She does seem to be embracing family, which is a really great start for her."

Harry nodded. "I do worry about how she'll handle school and playing with other kids, but she has been exceeding my expectations ever since she was born, so I like to imagine she'll handle all of that like a pro."

"Well, if you like, I can do some sessions with her on her own. When she feels comfortable to do so, of course," Jordan clarified.

"I think that would be a good idea," Harry agreed. "I tried to shield her from what was really going on in the shed, but I have no idea how well I really did. I suspect as much as I was trying to protect her, she was doing the same. On some level, anyway."

"Kids in less-than-ideal situations often do try to protect their parents, so I would not be surprised," Jordan told him. She paused for a beat, then asked, "Is there anything else you want to share about your experience or where you are now?"

"Did you see the interview I did for TV?" Harry answered with his own question.

"I did," Jordan said. "I thought you handled yourself pretty well. That can't have been easy."

"It wasn't," he confirmed. "There's just one question she asked me that I keep asking myself."

"Which one?"

"If I ever thought about asking Ben to take Darcy away," Harry revealed. "I talked to my mum about it, and she told me she thought I did what was best for me and for Darcy, but I can't help wondering if I really did what was best for Darcy and not just me."

"That's something we can definitely talk about as we go through this whole process," Jordan assured him with a comforting smile. "It's very important that you come to be at peace with all the decisions you made while you were in such dire circumstances."

"So, what now? How does this go?" Harry had told her just about all he could handle in one session.

"Well, I think to start, we should plan on two sessions a week. I'd like to meet with you on your own each time you come, and I'd also like to sit down with all of you as a family each time," Jordan explained. "If your mum or your sister want to meet with me on their own, that's fine, too, and, as I said, I'd like to meet with Darcy on her own once she's comfortable."

"That all makes sense," Harry remarked.

"Like I mentioned earlier, we can involve some of the animals as part of our therapy--or not. This is all about helping your whole family adjust to you being back, so we can do whatever feels right to you," Jordan concluded.

"Great," Harry said, giving her a small smile. "Thank you so much."

"I look forward to getting to know more about all of you," Jordan told him. "You seem like a lovely family, and I can tell your mother and sister are so excited to have you back. They look at you like they can't quite believe you're here."

Harry's smile grew a little bigger. "There are moments I can't quite believe it, either."

Jordan looked out the window, and Harry followed her gaze. His mother, sister, and Darcy were slowly walking back toward the house. "Perfect timing," Jordan commented. She waved them in, and they hastened their steps.

Anne, Gemma, and Darcy reclaimed their seats long enough for Jordan to say, "I've told Harry I'd like to begin with two sessions a week with everyone. Shall we meet the day after tomorrow, same time?"

Everyone nodded with enthusiasm, on board with the plan.

"I'm looking forward to getting to start working with all of you," Jordan told them, standing up.

As Harry stood up to follow her back to the front of the house, Darcy's hand in his, he felt exactly the same way. Yet another step on the way back to normalcy. It could not happen soon enough.

* * *

Their first proper session with Jordan was a success. After Harry met with the therapist alone to discuss the early days of his captivity, the family met all together to talk about what it was like in those first days when Harry was gone. Des even joined in virtually as often as he could, utilising his computer and his mobile phone to be present and part of the healing.

Harry was absolutely devastated to hear how much heartbreak his mum, his dad, and his sister (and his step-father, too) went through. They had done a load of TV appearances begging for Harry's safe return, they had had interview after interview with the police to try to figure out what could have happened, and they had created a website to collect information and get the word out about Harry's disappearance. That must have been the one Gemma had referred to during one of their night-time chats.

All while Harry had been in a shed in a backyard less than twenty miles from Holmes Chapel.

Darcy had not quite been ready to meet with Jordan on her own, but she did get to pet some kittens, and she helped brush some of the horses with one of Jordan's stable hands. While the family chatted, she sat in the corner of the room at a small table set up with some crayons and paper. She coloured some pictures while keeping an eye on her Papa, lest he leave without her.

They stopped for lunch at a small café not far from Anne's place. The owner knew Anne and gave the family a table in the back where they wouldn't be on display. It was Darcy's first trip out to a restaurant, and she enjoyed all of it--reading the menu, doing some more colouring on the paper placemat, and having the waitress bring her the food she ordered from an entirely different room from the one they were sitting in.

Darcy was exhausted by the time they got home, and she agreed to lay down for a nap. About five minutes after she was sound asleep, Louis called.

 _"Harry. Hi,"_ Louis greeted him brightly. _"How are you doing?"_

"Doing okay," Harry replied. "We started some family therapy, and every day I'm home it seems more and more real." They were closing in on two weeks home, and it truly was starting to feel real.

 _"That's great,"_ Louis said. _"How's Darcy doing?"_

"She's good. We're trying to introduce her to things slowly, but she's starting to be more adventurous, which is great," Harry reported. "We took her to Marks and Sparks to go shopping, and she did okay. She's a little confused by the concept of there being multiples of the same item, but she'll get there."

 _"I'm sure she will,"_ Louis agreed. _"Tough concept when you've only been in one place ever."_

"Yeah." Harry cleared his throat. "So, are you enjoying your break?"

 _"I am,"_ Louis assured him. _"But I'm looking forward to the O2 shows, too. Which is why I called."_

"They're this weekend, right?" Harry hoped he recalled correctly.

 _"They are,"_ Louis confirmed. _"Saturday and Sunday. I was hoping you and your family were able to come be our guests for one of the shows. Liam, Zayn, and Niall are beyond excited to see you."_

Harry had not actually focused on the idea of going down to London with Darcy, his mum, and Gemma, because the idea loomed very large. Now that the question was square in front of him, however, he found there was no real way to say no. Though there was a part of him that was terrified of what it would be like, there was another part that was very curious about what it would be like.

In light of all that, Harry said, "I'll have to double check with my mum and with Gemma, but I think that would be fun. I know Darcy would enjoy watching you all play."

 _"Great! Which day should I put you down for?"_ Louis wanted to know, his voice coming across the line very excited.

"Saturday, maybe?"

 _"I can do that. And if Saturday ends up being bad, we can do Sunday,"_ Louis stated. _"I'll put down you, Darcy, your mum, and Gemma. Anyone else?"_

"Maybe Gemma's boyfriend Michal?" Harry suggested. "He's down there in London and might want to come."

 _"I'll put a plus one down for Gemma,"_ Louis said. _"And if you think of anyone else, you can just let me know, and I'll add them."_

"Okay," Harry told him.

 _"Do you have someplace to stay when you come down?"_ Louis asked.

Somehow, Harry doubted that Gemma's flat would be large enough to accommodate them all. "I guess we'll need to get a hotel."

 _"Let me arrange that,"_ Louis requested. _"I'll get you the information by tomorrow."_

"Are you sure?"

 _"Positive,"_ Louis insisted. _"You all don't need to worry about anything but getting down to London. I'll take care of the rest."_

"That's very kind," Harry remarked. "Thank you so much."

 _"It's quite literally the least I can do,"_ Louis said. _"I'm so excited you're going to try to come."_

"When you call tomorrow, I can let you know for sure if we're in," Harry stated.

 _"Sounds great. Talk to you then."_ Harry could imagine Louis smiling on the other end of the call.

"Talk to you then," Harry echoed before ending the call.

Time to talk to his mum and Gemma and see if they were up for a trip down to London.

* * *

Both his mum and Gemma turned out to be quite enthused about a trip down to London for the concert--as long as Harry was feeling good about it. Darcy was a little confused about what the idea of the journey was, but when Harry explained that she would get to hear the band from the music planet, she seemed cautiously happy about the concept.

True to his word, Louis called the next day to tell them they were booked into a Hilton located in Canary Wharf. When Harry Googled it, it looked like a pretty nice hotel. Louis had gotten them three rooms--one for Anne, one for Gemma and Michal, and one for Harry and Darcy. They would all be next to each other.

They decided that Gemma would drive her car, and Anne, Harry, and Darcy would drive down in Anne's. Gemma would probably remain in London for a few days to take care of some things, but she did want to return to Anne's to continue their family work. She was definitely excited about introducing Michal to Harry and Darcy.

The drive down was uneventful. Darcy was a little antsy, having never been on such a long journey before, but Harry had thought ahead and packed plenty of books and games to distract her.

Harry had only ever been to London a handful of times in his life. The last time had, of course, been for the Boot Camp stage of _The X-Factor_. London had seemed so big, very busy, and full of promise. As they drove into the city proper this time, it still seemed big, and it still seemed busy, but Harry wasn’t at all sure what to expect in terms of promise. He was both wildly nervous and wildly excited about seeing Niall, Liam, and Zayn again. They had barely been friends when they'd been put into the band together. He had no idea what the dynamic would be now.

Like Darcy, he watched the city go by in the window, and he tried to breathe deeply and tell himself everything would be okay.

They all arrived at the hotel in time for lunch and discovered that Louis had arranged for lunch to be served in Harry and Darcy's room, since he knew they'd be tired from their trip. The family were all grateful for his thoughtfulness.

Anne, Gemma, Harry, and Darcy were just sitting down to eat when Michal arrived.

Gemma had told Harry quite a bit about Michal. They'd been introduced by mutual friends at a party. Michal worked as a business analyst, and he treated Gemma very well. Anne loved him, which was a stamp of approval in Harry's book, but he was still happy to get to meet Michal himself and form his own opinion.

Michal walked right over to Harry with an outstretched hand. "Hi, Harry, I'm so thrilled to get to meet you. I'm Michal."

Harry immediately liked him. He was about the same height that Harry was, with perfectly coifed brown hair and deep blue eyes. His smile was wide and genuine, and Harry could see why Gemma had chosen him.

"Hi, Michal. I'm happy to finally meet you, too," Harry said. "Gemma's told me a lot about you."

"All good, I hope," Michal remarked, smile still big.

"Absolutely," Harry assured him. "Thanks for taking care of her."

"Pleasure's all mine," Michal offered his own assurances. He looked to where Darcy was silently appraising him. "This must be Darcy."

"Darcy," Gemma jumped in. "This is my boyfriend, Michal."

Michal gave her a little wave. "Hi, Darcy. It's lovely to meet you, too. I heard you were a very brave little girl. I hope we can be friends."

Darcy was still looking at him somewhat carefully, but she did crack a tiny smile at his words.

Michal gave Anne a hug before sitting in a chair next to Gemma to have some lunch. Louis had arranged for a meal of cold cuts and cold salads. There was plenty for everyone.

The conversation around the table was very easy. Michal talked about his job a little, he and Gemma spoke about life in London, and they considered the idea of maybe doing a little sightseeing on Sunday. There were plenty of kid-friendly things to do; they would just need to decide which would be the easiest for Darcy to handle.

After lunch, they all needed a little downtime. Darcy napped while Harry, Anne, Gemma, and Michal found a mindless movie on the TV to veg out to. When Darcy woke up, they decided to take a walk outside and explore the wharf a little.

Darcy stuck to Harry's side like glue, but she was awed by just about everything there was to see, as was Harry. There was shopping galore, and the waterfront was amazing. They went in several of the shops and walked along the water. It was all very relaxed and easy, for the most part. A couple times, Harry noticed people staring at him. He assumed these were people who recognised him from the news. Thankfully, no one approached them, allowing them to enjoy their outing. It was, nonetheless, a little disconcerting.

They introduced Darcy to fish and chips when it was teatime, then it was back to the hotel to change for the concert.

It had been easy to pick an outfit for Darcy. She had a pair of hot pink jeans she really loved, and Harry paired it with a pale pink shirt, a hot pink sweater, and some new pink sneakers. This outfit had the added bonus of being very vivid. She would not get lost at the arena.

It had been harder for Harry to choose what to wear. In the end, he'd gone with a pair of black skinnies and a pale blue button-down shirt that was patterned with little white dots. Gemma had trimmed his hair to make sure it was in the best shape it could be, and he'd gotten some new black boots he was excited to wear.

Anne, Gemma, and Michal dressed equally nicely for the event, and everyone was ready when Harry got the text saying the car Louis had sent for them had arrived.

Louis had not booked just any car, but a very nice limo. The seats were buttery soft leather, and the windows were tinted, giving the city a very noir look, even if they weren’t in the car very long.

The car dropped them off at a back entrance, and a woman with a clipboard was waiting for them with badges on lanyards--even a small one for Darcy. She introduced herself as Naomi. "I'll be your liaison tonight at the concert. Come right this way. The band is waiting to meet you backstage."

Harry and his entourage followed Naomi down a long hallway that bustled with roadies and arena staff trying to get ready for the evening's performance. Darcy stuck close to Harry's side once again, holding his hand with a death grip.

Naomi led them to a door that had a handwritten sign that read "One Direction--Louis Tomlinson Dressing Room." She knocked and, then, without waiting for an answer, threw open the door.

There weren't too many people in the room. Just a couple of women holding hairbrushes and make-up brushes, a young guy dressed in nice trousers and a button-up shirt who was on the phone, and Louis.

Louis had been talking to one of the make-up women, but he hurried over to greet Harry and his family immediately. He hugged Harry, Anne, and Gemma, shook Michal's hand and waved to Darcy, who was clinging to Harry's legs as she looked around her new environment.

"Welcome!" Louis said to the group at large, beaming. "I'm so excited you're here."

"Thank you so much for everything," Harry told him, not wanting to forget to mention Louis' generosity. "The hotel is wonderful, lunch was great, and we all enjoyed the limo ride."

"I'm glad everything went as planned," Louis returned. "Did you get a chance to walk around a little this afternoon?"

"Yes," Anne fielded this question. "Canary Wharf is a lovely area. So many things to do and look at."

"I haven't gotten to walk around down there in years," Louis confessed, "but I do recall it being a lot of fun."

"It was," Gemma assured him.

"Oh!" Louis clearly remembered something. He began to point to the other people in the room. "This is Matt, an intern at our management company, Lou, our hairstylist, and Lottie, my sister and our make-up artist."

Harry's crew waved to Louis'. Then Louis' people got back to work.

"The show's not for a little while yet," Louis stated. "When it starts, we've got a special area set up just for you. Before that, though, Niall, Liam, and Zayn wanted to see you. Let me text them." He pulled his phone from his pocket and typed something quick into it.

Less than a minute later, three familiar-looking guys--all a good bit older from the last time Harry had seen them in person--crashed into the room. They made a beeline for Harry. Anne gently took Darcy's shoulders to move her away from the onslaught of the rest of One Direction.

Niall got there first. His hair was less blond than Harry remembered, but his eyes were still bright, and his smile was still cheeky as he asked Harry, "Can I hug you?"

Harry barely had time to nod before he found himself enveloped in a fierce hug. When Niall let go, Liam and Zayn took their turns.

"It's so amazing to see you, mate," Liam said when Zayn let Harry go.

"You, too," Harry said. If his voice wasn't quite as enthused at the band's, he chalked it up to nerves.

It was so odd to see the boys face to face after so long. First off, none of them were really boys anymore. They'd all grown up. Harry had been aware of that when he'd seen them on TV, but it was even more apparent live. He supposed it was strange for them, too, seeing him again so many years later.

"Anne, how are you doing?" Niall asked, pulling Harry away from his thoughts.

"I'm doing fine," Anne confirmed. "Better than fine, actually, now that Harry's back. You remember Harry's sister, Gemma?"

"I do," Niall answered. He gave first Anne, then Gemma, a quick hug. "It's so great to see you both. It's been too long."

"It has," Anne agreed. "And this is Michal, Gemma's boyfriend, and Darcy, Harry's daughter."

"Nice to meet both of you," Niall remarked, offering them all smiles.

"Likewise," Michal told him.

Liam and Zayn followed Niall's lead and offered quick hugs to Anne and Gemma before shaking Michal's hand congenially.

Darcy was hiding behind Harry's legs by this time, but Liam gave her a little wave. "Hi darling." He shifted his gaze to Harry. "She's beautiful."

"Thank you," Harry accepted the compliment with a small smile.

"We were so happy to hear about your escape," Niall continued. "We're so happy you're okay."

"Thanks." He guessed that he could go along with the idea of being okay at this point, even if he still felt like there was so much to work through. So much.

"Thank you all for coming to the show," Zayn entered the conversation. "Have you gotten to hear much of our music, or will it be new to you?"

"I've definitely heard what's been on the radio," Gemma answered first. "I especially love _Story of My Life_."

"Oh, I like that one, too," Anne commented. "Also _Drag Me Down_. Very catchy."

"How about you, Harry?" Niall inquired.

"I got to hear some of the songs if I caught you on a chat show," Harry reported. "My favourite is probably _Ready to Run_ , but Darcy's is _What Makes You Beautiful_. I sing it to her all the time."

An awkward silence fell between them all, and Harry could only imagine that they were thinking what he was--that he should have sung that with them professionally, not in a shed to the daughter he'd been forced to bear.

His mother came to everyone's rescue. "Is this the first time you've played here at the O2?"

Louis shot her a grateful glance. "No. We've played here before. It's a really special venue, though. Amazing audiences."

"We're looking forward to seeing the show," Gemma said.

"We hope it lives up to your expectations," Niall wished.

"I'm sure it will," Anne told him.

"If we're going to impress you, we should finish getting ready," Liam said. "See you all later?"

Harry nodded. "Have a great show."

Liam, Zayn, and Niall all wanted one more hug from Harry.

Liam and Zayn hugged him, waved to Harry's family, then headed off to their own dressing rooms.

Niall lingered for just a moment after his hug. He met Harry's gaze to say, "I missed you so much. We were all so, so worried about you. I can't tell you how thrilled I am that you're back and you're here tonight."

Harry smiled at Niall's sincerity. "I missed you, too. It's good to see you."

"I look forward to catching up," Niall continued. "And to getting to know this cutie." He gestured to where Darcy was still trying to hide behind Harry.

"Me, too," Harry returned before Niall gave Harry's family a wave and left the room.

"You're all welcome to stay here while I get ready," Louis offered. "Naomi is the best tea maker on our staff, and the sofas and chairs here are pretty comfy--for backstage furniture, that is. We'll be sure to get you out to your VIP area in time for the opener."

It wasn't like they really had anyplace else to be just yet, so they settled down in the sitting area and accepted cups of tea (or coffee or soda or water) from their liaison and chatted while Louis got into his stage clothes and had his hair and stage make-up done.

Harry tried not to focus on Louis too deeply, lest he get busted by everyone in the room. It was hard, though. Louis looked amazing in his stone-washed skinny jeans, white t-shirt, and black jacket. All very casual, but styled nonetheless. He had so many tattoos Harry caught glimpses of while Louis changed. He wished he had time to explore them all.

Once Louis was ready, he came and stood near where Harry sat and chatted with them about the music being played in the arena, which they could hear faintly. He explained that the band was allowed to pick what was played, and he said the band was very democratic about it, each of them getting the same number of songs to choose.

Before they knew it, it was time to go out for the opening act. All of Harry's family--and Michal--stood to get ready to leave.

"Wait!" Louis exclaimed, stopping everyone in their tracks. "I almost forgot. Don't go yet."

Without giving any other explanation, Louis rushed off to fetch something. He came back moments later with a small pair of purple headphones.

Louis grinned triumphantly "These are for Darcy. My sister Doris has a pair just like them, and they do a good job of protecting tiny ears." He handed the headphones to Harry. "She'll still be able to hear the music, but at a less dangerous volume."

"Thanks," Harry told him. "I'll make sure she wears them."

"Excellent."

Naomi appeared as if out of thin air. "I can take you out to the VIP area whenever you're ready."

"I'll see you after the show, yeah?" Louis checked.

"Sure," Harry concurred, taking Darcy's hand in his. "Have a good show."

"Thanks." Louis waved at the group. "Enjoy Julia. She's a really talented singer."

Naomi led Harry and his family out onto the floor. On the right side, not far from the stage, an area had been cordoned off with chairs and room to stand up and watch the show. No one was blocking their view, and their area was only visible to a small portion of the crowd. Whoever had been responsible for picking their spot had done a great job.

The opening act was called Julia Michaels. Harry had heard of her a couple times, but hadn't really heard much of her music. He found he quite enjoyed it. She was a gifted lyricist, and her music really showcased that.

Harry made sure to put the small purple headphones over Darcy's ears after explaining to her that the headphones would keep the music from being too loud. Darcy seemed to be enjoying the music as much as Harry was. At one point she even stood in front of her seat and danced a little. Harry enjoyed that almost more than Julia Michaels.

Harry and his family got to go backstage when Julia was done to use the less crowded restrooms and get a snack and drinks from the green room. They didn't see the band, who were off prepping for their entrance, but Julia came into the green room while they were filling their cups with free soda and water. It was fun to get to tell her how much they loved her set. She told them she'd seen Harry's story on television, and she was excited to get to meet him and tell him how brave she thought he was.

Naomi was watching the time--and listening to everyone on her walkie talkie--and she alerted the family when they had just a few minutes to get ready to go back to their seats. It was very nearly show time.

The excitement in the room was palpable. The audience, Harry had not failed to notice, was largely female, and if the high-pitched screams were any indication, they loved the band absolutely. When the lights went down and a video of the band frolicking around the world started to play on the wrap-around screen, the screaming became deafening. Harry was incredibly glad Darcy had headphones on; he kind of wished he had a pair. He wondered if the band were used to the noise or if it bothered them.

When the stage to ceiling curtain dropped dramatically, the screaming hit a fever pitch.

The band were strategically posed on different parts of the stage. Niall was nearest to where Harry and his family stood, an acoustic guitar strapped over his shoulder. Zayn was next, stood completely still, legs spread apart, hands folded around a microphone, all poised at stomach-level. Louis was on the other side of Zayn, sat casually on a speaker, microphone in hand, balanced on his knee. Finally, there was Liam, stood with one foot on the bottom step of a set of steps leading up to a platform on the other side of the stage.

The second the music began, the screams intensified. Harry hadn't even thought that was possible, but they levelled out enough over the intro of the song for Harry to hear the actual music. The song was not one he recognised, but judging by the chorus, the song was called _Hey Angel_. It was a good opening song, lively and atmospheric.

The guys took turns singing, and their voices blended so well together. Harry couldn't help but wonder how they would sound if Harry had not been taken, if he had been able to continue on with them. Would their sound still be the same? Harry certainly dreamed of writing songs. What would it have been like to be up on stage singing a song he'd written to a crowd like this?

After that first song faded away, Liam greeted the crowd. Harry remembered Liam from Boot Camp. He'd been very likeable and friendly. He had tried out for _X-Factor_ before, so he'd been a good person to go to if you had questions about how it all worked. He'd been so excited to make it back to Judges' Houses, even if he'd planned to be a solo act, as they had all planned to be.

Liam was great with the crowd, welcoming everyone to the show and thanking the fans for their support over the past eight years. Then he explained that their next song was usually later in the show, but they had a very special little guest who might not be awake by the end of the set, and it was her favourite song. They wanted to make sure she got to hear it.

Harry had only to hear the opening notes to know they were going to sing _What Makes You Beautiful_. For Darcy. Who began dancing the second she recognised the song. It was adorable, the way she swung her little hips and pumped her little arms. They had watched plenty of dancing on TV that she had been able to attempt to emulate. She was completely enthralled by hearing her song live and in person.

He wasn't exactly sure when he started crying, the first line of the chorus or the second, but by the beginning of the second verse he was sobbing hard enough that his mother had noticed and moved to stand in front of him. Tears coursed down his face, blurring his vision, and he was starting to have trouble breathing.

Hard as he tried, he could not stop crying, and breaths were in short supply. During the second round of the song's chorus, his mother steered him out of the VIP area, around the edge of the floor, and into the hallway. She kept them moving until they had wound back to the door leading backstage. Their badges let them right past the security guard, and Anne found an empty room for them to sit in, closing the door for privacy.

Harry let his mum guide him into an easy chair, then she pulled another easy chair over so they could sit knee to knee. She put her hands on his thighs, rubbing gently.

"It's okay, baby. You're okay," she began to assure in in a soft, soothing voice. "You're fine. I'm here. You're okay."

He was vaguely aware of the fact that the band was now singing _Best Song Ever_ , but his focus was on attempting to catch his breath.

"That's right, Harry. Slow, deep breaths," his mum directed, moving her hands up to his upper arms, rubbing just as gently as she had done his legs. He closed his eyes as he struggled to purposefully calm his breathing and get air into his shaking body.

Eventually he came back enough to himself to choke out, "Darcy!"

"She's absolutely fine. She's with Gemma. She didn't even notice you were upset, she was so busy enjoying her song. She'll be fine," Anne repeated.

He trusted Gemma implicitly, and he knew she and Michal would take perfect care of Darcy. He tried to return his focus to himself and the even, deep breaths he needed to take to compose himself.

The song had changed to something Harry wasn't familiar with by the time his sobs had morphed into something more akin to hiccups. His mother left him very briefly to grab a bottle of water, handing it to him when she returned. He gratefully opened it and took a few sips before setting the bottle onto a nearby table.

The band had moved onto yet another unfamiliar song when he finally felt able to speak to his mum. His voice was raspy when he apologised. "I'm sorry."

Anne shook her head firmly. "There is absolutely nothing to apologise for."

"I can't stay here," he said next. He knew it like he knew his own name. He couldn't be at this arena anymore. "I thought I could do this, but I can't."

"Okay. We can go back to the hotel," his mother said decisively.

"I hate to pull Darcy away if she's having a good time," Harry lamented.

"You don't have to. Let Gemma and Michal take care of her," Anne suggested. "She'll be just fine."

"She might be scared if I'm not here," Harry protested.

"Maybe she will," his mother agreed. "But they'll deal with it. She'll be fine."

"I don't know…." Five years of being with Darcy 24/7 was very hard to shake, despite his mother's multiple assertions that his daughter would be okay without him for a little while.

"Do you really want her to see you this upset?" his mum asked, throwing logic in his face.

He sighed with resignation. "Okay."

"I'll text Gemma and let her know we're going," she told him. "She can let the band know you had to go, and she and Michal can get Darcy back to the hotel when the show is over. Then we can get back out to the car and get out of here."

Harry just nodded, putting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

Gemma texted back that they would take the best care of Darcy, and then Anne left Harry just long enough to find Naomi to ask her to send for the car and get them an escort out of the building.

Thanks to the proximity of the hotel to the arena and the fact that the concert wasn't even half over, it took almost no time at all for them to arrive back at the hotel, sending the car back to the arena for Gemma, Michal, and Darcy.

Harry and Anne retired quickly to Anne's hotel room. Anne got Harry installed in one of the chairs in the corner of her room, then collected two bottles of water from the mini fridge. Sitting down in the chair across from Harry, she handed him one of the bottles and said, "We can talk about it, or we can just sit here. Whatever you need is fine."

Still a little shaky, Harry uncapped the water and took several long sips. Finally, he explained, "When Liam said they were going to play a song early for a special guest, I knew it was going to be _What Makes You Beautiful_ for Darcy. Which was lovely. But when they started to play the song, all I could think about was how I should have been up there with them. I started thinking about how I wished more than anything that I had ignored Ben when he came up to me that day and told me about the dog." He had to stop to keep himself from crying again.

While Harry worked on keeping himself together, his mother said, "I can't even imagine how difficult it would be to watch people having a fabulous experience that you were supposed to have, too."

Harry covered his mouth with his hands and closed his eyes. In spite of his efforts, some tears escaped from his eyes. Anne was quiet and patient as he drew in some deep breaths and got himself back under control.

He took another sip of water, then he was able to continue talking. "I've thought about that over and over and over, how dumb it was to follow him, but this felt different. There was the band up on the stage, and they were having so much fun, and everyone in the arena was having the best time. It felt so much more real, everything I lost."

"That makes sense," his mum said. "It's incredibly unfair, what happened. But you can't keep blaming yourself for what you did. You were being your wonderful kind self, trying to help someone out. He's the asshole."

Harry widened his eyes at her choice of noun.

"He is," she insisted. "There's no better word to describe him. He's an asshole. He had absolutely no right to do what he did. He needs to spend the rest of his life in prison. None of it's your fault, though. This was all stolen from you, you didn't give it away."

"I know." Harry blew out a puff of air. "It doesn't make being faced with the band any easier."

"You don't have to have anything more to do with them after tonight," Anne stated plainly. "You saw them, they saw you, you have some closure. I think you could feel pretty good about moving on."

Harry had not even considered the idea of not interacting with the band anymore. Now he thought about it, he knew he couldn't do that. "I can't. I mean, I want to move on and get my life started, but I think the band needs to still be a part of my life, in some form or another."

"The band?" Anne questioned him, one eyebrow raised. "Or Louis?"

Heat infused Harry's cheeks, no doubt turning them bright red.

A small smile graced his mother's face. "I thought that might be the case."

"I don't know if anything can happen, but…." He allowed the thought to just dangle. He knew his mum would get it.

"Then you're going to need to make your peace with yourself," Anne cautioned him. "You're going to need to accept what's in the past and figure out how to go on from here."

"Jordan said something like that, too, in our session a few days ago. She said I have to forgive myself," Harry revealed.

Anne's smile grew just a little bit more. "It's good advice."

Harry nodded in agreement. "I know."

"And you can take your time to figure out exactly what you want your relationship with the band to be," his mother went on. "They'll wait. And if they can't, then that's your answer there."

Harry put down the bottle of water he was still holding, then reached across the space between them to wrap his mum in a tight hug. "Thanks," he whispered in her ear. "I love you so much."

"Not as much as I love you," she countered, squeezing him just as tightly. "And I'm here. Always. For whatever."

When they parted, Harry uncapped his water once more and took another long sip. Next, he hauled in a deep breath, worn out from the intensity of the evening.

"What do you say we find a nice romantic comedy on the telly and wait for your daughter and mine to get home from the concert?" Anne proposed.

"That sounds like a great idea." Harry downed the rest of his water bottle. "Let me get another bottle of water while you find something suitable to watch."

Anne picked up the remote and pointed it at the television. "I'm already on it."

* * *

It was just past eleven-thirty p.m. when Gemma and Michal returned, a very sleepy Darcy in Gemma's arms.

Harry immediately got up to take her. Her eyes were a little red, but she smiled when Harry settled her in his arms.

"Hi, bug," Harry said softly.

Darcy's smile faded just a bit. "Papa, you left," she accused him, though there wasn't a great deal of heat behind it.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't feeling well, so I came back to the hotel with Granny Anne," Harry explained to her. "Did you enjoy the concert?"

She took a moment to consider his excuse, then seemed to accept it, her smile returning. "They sang to me, Papa."

"I heard," Harry returned, forcing a smile of his own.

"When the music was over, I got a shirt and a CD from Louis," Darcy went on.

Harry looked over to Gemma and Michal. Michal held up a tiny One Direction t-shirt and a CD that looked like it had autographs on it.

The smile on Harry's face moved closer to genuine. "That was really nice of them."

Darcy yawned widely.

With a chuckle, Harry said, "Time for bed, bug." He looked over to his mother and sister. "I'll be right back."

Back in the room he and Darcy were sharing, Harry barely had time to change Darcy into pyjamas and tuck her in before she was sound asleep, exhausted by her busy night. Harry left the bathroom light on and left the door between his and Anne's room open just a sliver, in case Darcy woke up.

"Thanks for taking such good care of her," Harry told Gemma and Michal as he came back into his mother's room.

Gemma shook her head. "Absolutely no problem. She was a little bit upset when you didn't come back, and she was a little scared by the crowd at the end of the show, but otherwise, she was fine. The band were really kind to her backstage."

"You told them I was sorry I had to leave?" Harry checked.

"Yep. I told them you weren't feeling great, and that you and Mum came back here," Gemma reported. "I'm not sure they totally bought it, but they went along with it."

"They're all really nice guys," Michal interjected.

"They are," Harry agreed. "Did you guys like the show?"

Gemma and Michal both nodded.

"It was good," Michal noted. "They have a lot of energy."

"And it was so sweet for them to sing _What Makes You Beautiful_ for Darcy," Gemma added. "She did remember to say thank you to them afterwards."

"With a little prompting from Auntie Gemma," Michal said with a smile.

"Well, thanks again," Harry told them.

"How are you doing?" Gemma wanted to know. Before he could say anything, she clarified, "How are you really doing?"

"I'm better," Harry answered honestly. "Lots to work through still, of course, but better."

Impulsively, Gemma drew him into a hug. It still felt like home or, in this case, home away from home.

As she let him go, Gemma said, "I don't know about all of you, but I'm exhausted."

"Me, too," Harry admitted. He felt it in every bone of his body.

"I'm definitely ready for bed, too," Anne put in. "Why don't we plan to meet in the morning for breakfast, then we can see where we might go sightseeing?"

"Sounds good to me." Gemma looked to Harry. "That work for you?"

"Sure." Harry checked the time on his mobile. "Eight too early?"

"Not for me," Anne replied.

"That's fine by us," Gemma responded, corroborating that response with Michal with a raised eyebrow. He nodded amiably.

With a plan in place, they bid each other goodbye and retired to their respective rooms.

Harry was way too tired for a shower. He just shed his concert clothes and put on a pair of pyjama bottoms and a plain white t-shirt, then slipped into bed next to Darcy.

Even though he was tired, Harry couldn't shut off his brain. In his mind's eye, he could still see One Direction on stage--without him. The pain that image brought was very real. Real, but not so bad that he wanted to let the band go. Not so bad that he wanted to give Louis up.

He would just have to figure out how to deal with the pain. Push past it to begin something new. He had no idea how to do that. Yet. But he would. He had to. The alternative was not an option.

* * *

In the morning, Anne and Gemma made an executive decision to be decadent and order up a room service breakfast. Eggs, bacon, French toast, regular toast, sausages, tomatoes, and baked beans were all delivered to Anne's room for the group to share, along with pots of coffee and tea. They brought in chairs from their other rooms, and it was nice to just have a relaxing meal in a quiet setting.

Anne, Harry, and Michal were done, and Gemma and Darcy were almost done when there came a knock at the door. Anne got up to answer it, finding none other than Louis Tomlinson on the other side.

Anne welcomed Louis in, and he hesitantly entered, waving to everyone in the room. His gaze landed on Harry, who was sitting at the table in the corner of the room with Darcy and Gemma, making sure Darcy finished her food.

Harry smiled and waved back at Louis, butterflies immediately taking up residence in his stomach. Louis was dressed down in joggers and a sweatshirt. He still looked amazing, if Harry was allowed to judge.

"Sorry to interrupt your breakfast," Louis said. "Looks like a good one."

"Would you like some?" Anne offered. "There's plenty."

Louis shook his head. "Thank you. I had some coffee. I'm good to go."

"Well, if you change your mind, help yourself," Anne told him.

"Thanks." Louis turned back to Harry. "I was hoping for a few minutes with you, Harry."

Harry supposed he should have guessed Louis would be there to talk to him. "Sure," he allowed.

"Is there somewhere we could talk alone? If that's okay," Louis requested.

"Sure," Harry said again. "We could go into my room. It's just the next one over."

"Sounds great," Louis said.

As he rose from the table, Harry assured his daughter, "I'll be right back. Finish your breakfast."

"Okay, Papa."

Harry pressed a kiss to the top of her head before leading Louis into his and Darcy's hotel room. Their chairs were currently in the room next door, so Harry sat down on the long edge of one bed, while Louis did the same on the other bed, facing Harry with a small smile.

Louis cleared his throat before starting to speak. "I'm not usually up this early on a Sunday, especially when I've had a show the night before, but I had a hard time sleeping last night."

"Oh?"

"I feel so horrible for last night," Louis explained, his brow furrowed.

Harry shook his head, confused. "I don't understand. I didn't get to see all of it, but Gemma, Michal, and Darcy loved it. Darcy was so excited you sang to her."

Louis offered him a small smile. "I'm glad. I caught a glimpse of her dancing. Super cute."

"She loves to dance," Harry remarked. "Sounds like it was a great show."

"That's not what I feel bad about. I feel bad about you having to leave," Louis stated, trying to clear up Harry's confusion.

"I wasn't feeling good," Harry gave the party line.

It was Louis' turn to shake his head. "I don't think that's why you left."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "You don't?"

"I think I was a bonehead to insist that you come to our show," Louis confessed.

"No, it was really nice of you," Harry countered, trying hard to maintain his cover. "I liked the part of the show I was able to see. I wish I hadn't had to leave."

"I can't even imagine how it must have felt to see us up on stage when you should have been up there with us," Louis continued to share his impression of what had happened.

Accepting that Louis had figured him out, Harry blew out a puff of air. "It was the first time it felt real, you know. What I missed out on."

"I'm so sorry," Louis told him, meeting his gaze.

"It's not your fault," Harry insisted. "It's Ben's fault. He's the one who stole it from me."

"But I'm the one who threw it in your face," Louis did his own insisting.

"No, Louis," Harry said. "You were trying to do a nice thing."

"I really should have thought it through," Louis went on. "Maybe given you a little more time before asking you to come to a show."

"I'm not sure it would've mattered," Harry admitted. "It was never going to be easy for me to see the band live. On TV, I could pretend it was just a show, that it wasn't really…real, you know?"

Louis nodded his understanding.

"Then, when I was watching you guys up there, I couldn't stop thinking about how as much as it was Ben's fault I wasn't up there with you, it was also mine," Harry revealed, feeling like he could share this truth with Louis.

Taken aback, Louis responded, "What? None of what happened was your fault. You were trying to help someone. You were trying to be kind."

"Yeah, and if I'd been a little less kind, I might not have been taken, and I would've been right where I was supposed to be." Harry couldn't help but continue to be bitter about this, regardless of having already talked this through with his mother.

"Maybe," Louis allowed, "but you can't change what happened. And no one would want to see you changing your kind self. It's one of the things I remembered most about you when you were gone."

Harry gave a small smile at that.

"So, it sounds like you need to forgive your past self for wanting to be helpful," Louis observed.

Harry sighed. "Easier said than done, but I'll work on it."

"Can you forgive me, too, while you're at it?" Louis requested.

This was much easier. "There's nothing to forgive you for. You were also trying to be kind. There was no way you could have known I would react to the concert that way."

"I might have guessed, though," Louis protested, "if, like I said, I had thought it through just a little bit more."

"Maybe you need to forgive yourself, too." Harry couldn't help but smirk.

"I'll work on it." Louis borrowed Harry's promise.

"Okay, then." Harry paused for just a moment before adding, "Thank you, Louis, for coming to check on me. I really appreciate it."

"My brain would not give me a choice," Louis pointed out. He looked over at the door between Harry's and Anne's rooms. "So, what are you all up to today? Leaving to go back up to Cheshire right away?"

Harry shook his head. "Gemma wants to play tour guide. I think we're going to go to the London Eye and, maybe, the Science Museum. We were trying to think of things that might be fun for Darcy."

"Those are excellent choices. My little sisters love both those places," Louis approved. "I should leave you to it." He put his hands down on the bed in preparation for pushing himself up.

Something inside Harry didn't want to see Louis go. "Would you like to join us for some--or all--of that?"

Louis paused mid-push. "Well, I do have to do some prep for the show tonight--including getting some sleep--but maybe I could go with you to the London Eye. I haven't been in a few years."

"Excellent. Let's go tell everyone you're joining us," Harry said, beaming, happy Louis had accepted his offer. He stood and started for the door.

Louis pushed himself up to follow. "You don't think they'll mind, do you?"

Harry's grin grew even bigger. "Not even a little, tiny bit."

* * *

As they exited the hotel in a little pack, Louis put on his sunglasses and a snapback, apologising in advance if he was spotted while they were out.

The car Louis had arranged for Harry's family to use the night before was still on call, and it drove the group down to the Westminster Bridge, located not far from the London Eye. While they travelled, Louis used his mobile to order tickets for everyone for the ride, allowing time for a walk around the area beforehand and--at Harry's request--time for Darcy to watch the Eye for a little while before getting on it herself.

If they had special ordered it, it could not have been a more beautiful day. The air was crisp, very seasonable for early spring, and the sun was out in a clear blue sky.

Louis took some pictures of Harry and his family on the bridge with Big Ben in the background, then they slowly walked toward the Eye at a leisurely pace. Darcy was excited to see boats on the water, and several times they had to stop so she could watch a boat disappear under the bridge.

They found a spot to sit in a row on a nearby wall to watch the Eye do a round. Harry pointed out to Darcy how slowly the Eye was going around, and how thick the glass was. She was a little nervous, but said she was willing to give it a go.

They watched the boats on the Thames until their boarding time approached. They moved to stand in the line, thanking technology for Louis' mobile tickets. It was really nice to be able to skip the long line at the box office and only stand in the long line to get on the ride.

In another stroke of luck, the Eye staff were being efficient on this Sunday morning, and it was only about twenty minutes before the Styles family--and friends--were ushered into their pod. At Louis' request, they had a pod all to themselves.

For the first several minutes--when there wasn't a lot to see yet--they sat down on the benches. As their pod climbed higher, they got up to look out around the city. The views were incredible.

The first time it appeared that they were out over the water--even though they weren't--Darcy started to cry softly and clutch at Harry's leg.

"It's too high, Papa. We're going to fall in the water," she declared through her tears.

Harry was just starting to pick her up when Louis stepped over to ask, "Can I try? I have a little experience with this."

"Five little sisters, right," Harry recalled. "Go for it."

Louis squatted down so he was eye to eye with Darcy. "Hey there, Darcy. Can I pick you up to show you something?"

Her tears subsiding, Darcy looked up and down, her gaze moving from Harry's face to Louis' and back again. After careful consideration, she nodded at Louis.

"Excellent," he said, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to the side of the pod that looked away from the river. "Look, there's Big Ben. Remember, the really tall clock?"

Darcy nodded.

"Do you think we're going to go higher than Big Ben?" Louis inquired.

She pondered his query for a moment, then nodded again.

"I think so, too," Louis agreed.

"And look over there, see those pointy tops?" Louis directed where she should look with his index finger.

"I see them," Darcy indicated. "What are they made of?"

"That's Westminster Abbey," Louis informed her. "It's made of stone. It's a church where people get married."

"Really?" Darcy had seen many people get married on television, and she always loved the big poufy dresses.

"Really," he assured her. "Princesses and princes and kings and queens. All very fancy."

"Oooh." Darcy was obviously impressed.

As he watched Louis with his daughter, Harry's heart felt full to overflowing. Darcy was completely distracted from being distraught by everything Louis was pointing out to her. He exchanged a look with his mum, and she smiled and winked. Harry hoped the warmth creeping up his cheeks wasn't too visible. Thankfully, Gemma and Michal were whispering to each other about the view, and Louis was busy with Darcy. He guessed he didn't mind his mum catching his pink cheeks--it wasn't like she wasn't clued in.

Louis kept up a running commentary with Darcy, eventually returning to the water side of the pod. "Look," he banged gently on the glass. "It's really strong. We're totally safe up here. You try." He banged on the glass one more time to demonstrate.

Darcy hesitated for a split second, then used her palm to hit the glass. When it stayed exactly where it was, she smiled. "What's that building?"

Harry looked to see what she was referring to. It was a blue building that looked a little bit like a rocket. Harry vaguely remembered seeing that building when he was in London for _X-Factor_ , but he could not remember was it was called.

"Its proper name is The Gherkin, but you know what everyone calls it?" Louis asked her.

She shook her head.

"They call it The Egg," Louis announced. "Isn't that a funny name?"

Darcy laughed. "It doesn't even look like an egg."

"I know, right?" Louis agreed.

When they were heading back down to ground level, Darcy wanted to know if they could go up again. She'd had the best time, and as far as Harry was concerned, that was all down to Louis.

After they filed off the pod and walked back over to Westminster Bridge, Louis called for the car, but stated that he was also calling a Lyft for himself, explaining to Harry when he asked that it was like a taxi you get through an app on your mobile phone.

"I need to get back to my place to get ready for the show tonight," Louis disclosed to the group as they waited for their transportation to arrive. "It's nearly noon, and sound check is at three. I need a nap, a shower, and a change of clothes."

"Thanks so much for coming with us, and especially for helping with Darcy," Harry said, working hard to infuse every word with gratitude. "We all had a great time."

"Me, too," Louis returned. With hope in his eyes, he added, "Maybe we can get together again sometime soon."

The blush returned, but Harry hoped it would be attributed to the excitement of the day and the exertion of walking from the Eye. "I would like that very much," he told Louis.

The car they'd been travelling in since arriving pulled up just then, and Louis gallantly opened the door so everyone could get in.

Anne, Gemma, Michal, and Darcy went in first, leaving Harry alone with Louis for just a moment.

"I'll call or text once I'm up in Doncaster," Louis promised. "And we'll keep the next outing a little more lowkey than a concert at an arena."

Harry chuckled darkly. "Good. I'll look forward to it."

"Go on," Louis urged. "Get in the car. Have fun sightseeing and have a safe trip back up north."

"Thanks." Harry stretched a leg out to climb in the car. "See you soon?"

"See you soon," Louis repeated, smiling big.

Harry got all the way into the car, and Louis shut the door after him. It was goodbye for now. But only for now.

* * *

Two days after returning home from London, it was time for another session with Jordan. As had become the routine, Harry met with her first on his own, then they would meet all together as a family.

"So, Harry," Jordan began once they were settled in easy chairs to chat, "how was the weekend in London?"

"There were parts that were good and parts that were not good," Harry answered.

"Which do you want to talk about first?"

Harry considered her question carefully before saying, "I suppose the parts that were not so good."

"Well, there's value in talking about what went well, too," Jordan pointed out, "but we can talk about what didn't first, if that's what's on your mind."

"It was really just the concert that was the problem," Harry narrowed down the topic quickly.

"What happened?"

"I didn't make it through two songs before I had to leave the show," he admitted, a little embarrassed, but wanting to talk about it.

"Why?"

"They were playing _What Makes You Beautiful_ , their first real hit, and it was the first time I really got what had been taken away from me," Harry explained. "They were all so close, they all sounded so great together, and they were having so much fun. And I had nothing to do with that song beyond singing it to Darcy at bedtime."

"I know it's a trite thing for a therapist to ask, but how did that make you feel?" Jordan wanted to know.

"At first, incredibly sad," Harry told her. "Then I was angry with myself."

"For what?"

"For following Ben to his truck that day." As Harry shared with her what he had already shared with his mother, he felt himself getting a little worked up. "I screwed up my entire life because I was trying to be kind. I should have just told him I was busy and walked away. Then I would have been part of the band like I was supposed to be, instead of spending eight years in a goddamned shed." Once he was done venting, he tried a few deep breaths.

"It makes absolute sense for you to feel the way you do," Jordan validated his emotions, "but it's not really productive."

Harry shook his head, not quite following her.

"Can you go back in time and change it?" Jordan questioned him.

"Of course not," Harry returned.

"Then you need to decide if it's worth holding onto that anger," Jordan said.

"That's kind of what my mum told me." Harry picked up the bottle of water Jordan had offered him when he'd arrived and took a large sip.

Jordan smiled. "Your mum's a wise woman."

Harry nodded in agreement, then took a deep breath before another sip of water.

"Why don't we talk about something good that happened on your trip?" Jordan suggested.

Harry said the first thing that came to his mind. "Louis."

"Louis from the band?" Jordan clarified.

Harry nodded again, smiling just thinking about him. "He was so great the entire weekend. He arranged the hotel, a car, special seating at the concert, and he and the band sang a song just for Darcy."

"That sounds wonderful."

"And he came over the day after the concert to apologise." If he was being honest, Harry was still a little blown away that Louis had made such an effort.

"What did he want to apologise for?" Jordan asked, urging him to stay out of his head and tell her more.

"For inviting me to the show," Harry reported. "He figured out pretty easily that I didn't leave because I was feeling ill, but because being at the show was hard for me."

"That's very perceptive of him," Jordan commented.

"When we met back in Boot Camp for _X-Factor_ we clicked right away. I guess that kind of thing doesn't go away," Harry speculated.

"So, you talked with him about this?"

"I did," Harry confirmed. "We talked about how I was mad at myself for going with Ben and how missing out on being in the band felt truly real once I saw them on the stage. He really seemed to get it."

"You said you and Louis clicked when you met," Jordan stated. "Were you friends, then, or more than friends?"

"We were just friends," Harry responded, "but I was definitely interested in more. I had realised I was probably gay not long before I auditioned for the show, and I was very attracted to Louis. He was funny and sweet and, of course, good-looking. But I had no time to act on that before I was taken."

Looking him straight in the eye, she inquired, "What about now?"

"What do you mean? Do you mean, do I want to act on my feelings for Louis?" Harry tried to clarify her question.

"Yes. Do you?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't see how that could work. He's an international popstar, and I'm a guy who was kidnapped for eight years."

"Plenty of celebrities have husbands, wives, boyfriends, and girlfriends who aren't celebrities," Jordan pointed out. "They make it work somehow."

"I don't even know if he feels that way about me or if he could," Harry protested.

"That's true," Jordan allowed, "but listen to your gut. How do you think he feels?"

"I think he might feel bad for what happened to me," Harry pointed out. "He may just want to be friends."

Jordan nodded. "He might. Or it may be something else."

"I guess it might," Harry admitted.

"How do you feel about that?" Jordan asked. "If it was something else."

Harry paused for a moment of thought, then shrugged. "I don't know if I could be with anyone as more than friends. Even if it was Louis."

"I think it would be a challenge," Jordan agreed. "You were trapped for years with someone who used you in unimaginable ways. You were forced to have sex on nearly a daily basis. You were forced to go through two pregnancies almost completely alone. You had to take care of a baby in a tiny shed all by yourself. None of that is something you get over overnight."

Harry had been very honest with Jordan about what had happened in the shed, including telling her about the first baby. She and Gemma were still the only people who knew about that. He had decided that Jordan wouldn't be able to help him if she didn't know everything. It was still jarring to hear the things he'd lived through come out of someone else's mouth.

"You also need to recognise that you deserve love," Jordan went on. "You deserve to be happy. You're not in the shed anymore."

"I don't know how to do that," Harry lamented.

"Well, whether it's with Louis or with someone else, you're going to need to be brave," Jordan said. "You're going to need to be honest. Whoever it is needs to understand where you're coming from and what you've been through."

"I don't know if I can talk with Louis about that," Harry told her.

"Maybe not right away, no," Jordan confirmed. "That's something you're going to need to work up to, but I think you could start by letting him know you want to be friends."

"He did tell me he'd contact me once he's back in Doncaster with his family. It's not a long trip from there to where I am," Harry informed her. "It sounded to me like he wanted to get together again."

"Perfect," Jordan concluded. "When he calls, set up a time to hang out. See what he says, see what happens. And remember, nothing has to be done all at once."

"Right." Harry was parched from all the talking and sipped liberally from his water bottle.

"Now, to switch gears, didn't you say you wanted to talk about Darcy starting school?" Jordan recalled what they'd discussed at their last session.

Harry nodded. "Easter Break is almost over, and that seems like a good time to get her into a school."

"Well, why don't we call your family back in, and we can have a conversation about the best way to go about getting that done. Maybe we can even get a read on how Darcy's feeling about the idea of school," Jordan said hopefully.

"I think it's going to be a tough transition, but I think she's ready for it," Harry guessed.

"Excellent." Jordan stood from her seat. "Shall we take a walk and find out what they're checking out this morning?"

Harry stood, too. "I'll bet they're by the horses. Darcy is a little obsessed with them."

Jordan chuckled. "That is absolutely not a bet I would take."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle, too.

* * *

Enrolling Darcy in school turned out to be pretty easy. Gemma had stayed in London for a week after the concert, then had returned to Holmes Chapel to continue to help out and take part in the family healing. Once she was back, Harry and Anne made an appointment with the headmistress of Holmes Chapel Primary School. They left Darcy with Gemma to have a long conversation with the headmistress.

The head, Mrs. Gresty, was familiar with Harry's story and was interested in all Harry had to share about Darcy. He told her that he'd taught her to read, write, and count, and she knew her colours and shapes. After all, there had been nothing but time in the shed.

The head had suggested that Darcy join one of their Reception classes. The children would be just her age, and even if she was ahead of them academically--which she might well be--she would get a lot of practice socialising.

Usually, Mrs. Gresty told them, they had a new student come in and visit the class they'd be in before officially starting, but since they were on Easter Break, it made sense for Darcy to just start the first day back. Harry would be welcome to stay with her for as long as necessary that day to ease her into things.

They had a week to prep Darcy for the concept of starting school. She was, understandably, wildly anxious about the idea. She really hadn't gotten to interact with other children since their escape.

Gemma came up with the bright idea of calling the head to get the name of one of Darcy's future classmates so they could set up a play date. Then Darcy would have at least one friend on the first day.

The head recommended a little girl called Fiona Patrick. Harry called Fiona's mum, and she was happy to bring Fiona over to play.

Darcy was definitely a little shy at first, but Harry encouraged her to show Fiona some of her toys, and in so doing, Darcy discovered that Fiona was a fan of Legos, too. They built some structures together while Harry, Gemma, Anne, and Fiona's mum, Cassie, shared small talk over cups of tea.

On the day Darcy was to start school, Harry helped her into her brand new school uniform and they had a special omelette breakfast before Gemma drove Harry and Darcy over to the school, located just far enough away that it was easier to drive than walk.

When they first arrived at the school, Darcy didn't want to get out of the car. This was a stumbling block Harry probably should have expected.

"What's wrong, bug?" Harry asked her, turning around in his seat so he could look Darcy in the eye.

"I want to go home with you and Auntie Gemma," Darcy declared.

"Are you nervous about meeting your teacher and your classmates?" Harry tried to home in on what was keeping Darcy in place.

"What if they're not nice?" Darcy wanted to know.

"Oh, I don't think you need to worry about that," Harry assured her. "I think they're going to be very nice. Everyone's looking forward to meeting you. And don't forget, Fiona will be there."

Darcy appeared to ponder Harry's reasoning for a moment, then she asked, "If I don't like it, can we go home?"

"If you really don't like it, we can discuss it," was as far as Harry was willing to go. "I do want you to try it, though."

Darcy gave that a moment of thought, too. She must have figured it was the best offer she was going to get, and she unbuckled herself from her car seat, climbed out of the car, and got her shiny new backpack on.

Gemma said she would stay in the car in the car park, ready to take Harry--or Harry and Darcy--home. She was just a text away if help was needed. While she waited, she'd brought her tablet so she could add some words to an article she was working on.

Bravely, Darcy bid her Aunt Gemma goodbye and took Harry's hand to walk into her new school.

They had arrived early so Darcy could meet the headmistress. She hid behind Harry at first, but Mrs. Gresty was warm and understanding, drawing Darcy out slowly.

When Darcy felt comfortable enough to step out from behind her father, Mrs. Gresty smiled. "You look so pretty in our uniform."

"I never had a uniform before," Darcy told her shyly.

"Are you excited about starting school?" the headmistress asked her.

"I already know how to read," Darcy said, straightening up proudly.

Mrs. Gresty grinned. "That's amazing. Maybe you'll come read to me sometime."

"I can count, too," Darcy was emboldened to say.

"Well, you sound ready for Reception," Mrs. Gresty determined. "Do you want to meet your teacher?"

"Maybe," Darcy answered.

The headmistress met Harry's gaze, smiling knowingly.

"That is the best you're going to get," he guessed.

"Then let's get to it."

Mrs. Gresty led the way out of her office and down the hallway to a classroom not far away from the entrance. It was a large classroom, with brightly coloured walls, decorated with student work. There were four small tables with tiny chairs around them, and a teacher was sat at a desk set in a corner, working on something on her computer.

"Mrs. Morrison?" the headmistress addressed the teacher.

The woman who got up from the desk smiling was probably a little older than Harry was, with ash blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. Her gaze lit on the head and Harry before landing on Darcy. "Hi, I'm Mrs. Morrison. You must be Darcy."

Darcy was gripping Harry's hand for dear life, and she was eyeing her proposed teacher warily.

"I'm so excited you're going to join our class," Mrs. Morrison announced. She shifted her gaze back to Harry. "You must be Darcy's dad."

"He's Papa," Darcy corrected in a quiet, yet firm, voice.

All the adults in the room smiled at her intensity. Darcy frowned at their reaction.

"Harry Styles," Harry introduced himself, shaking Mrs. Morrison's hand.

"It's nice to meet you both," the teacher said. Of Darcy, she asked, "Are you happy about starting school?"

Still in full disclosure mode, Darcy announced, "I can already read."

"That's fantastic," Mrs. Morrison responded. She looked back at Harry. "I'm familiar with your story, and I want to assure you that I'm going to do everything I can to help Darcy acclimate to school."

Harry liked her sincerity and her sensitivity. "Thank you. I've been a little nervous to have her start school. I've been her only teacher so far."

"And clearly a good one," Mrs. Gresty remarked. "If she can already read and count."

Mrs. Morrison raised her eyebrows. "You can count, too, Darcy?"

Darcy nodded proudly.

"Amazing," the teacher commented. Once more she turned to Harry. "Would you like to stay for the first part of the day?"

"I was hoping I could," Harry confessed, shifting his glance from Mrs. Morrison to Mrs. Gresty. "Just until she's comfortable."

"Of course," Mrs. Gresty assured him. "That's absolutely fine."

"Why don't I show you where you can put your backpack?" Mrs. Morrison suggested to Darcy.

When Darcy had nothing to say to that, Harry said, "That sounds lovely."

"I'll leave you all to it," the headmistress told them. "Mr. Styles, don't hesitate to call me for anything."

"Thank you," he replied as he and Darcy followed Mrs. Morrison to the cubby area.

They sorted out Darcy's backpack, snack, and lunch, then found her seat at the Red Table. Both Harry and Darcy were thrilled she would be sitting right next to her new friend Fiona. Harry would have to remember to thank Mrs. Gresty later for making sure that happened.

"Do you want to colour something while we wait for the rest of the class to get here?" Mrs. Morrison asked Darcy.

Darcy nodded, so Mrs. Morrison produced a box full of crayons and a collection of papers Darcy could choose from to colour. She chose one with a picture of a unicorn and a princess.

It wasn't long at all before the rest of Mrs. Morrison's Reception class began to arrive. All the children sat down to colour or write at their seats once they'd unpacked their things. When Fiona came in, she rushed right over to say hi to Darcy, then she picked a paper just like Darcy's to colour.

Once the school announcements had been made, Mrs. Morrison gathered her seventeen students on a colourful carpet at the front of the room. First, she welcomed the children back from Easter Break, then she introduced Darcy, explaining that Darcy's father, Mr. Styles, was joining them to check out all the wonderful things they did in Reception.

Thankfully, Mrs. Morrison didn't ask Darcy to speak, which allowed Darcy to just sit in the circle and watch the proceedings. Harry sat to the side, in Darcy's sightline. Every once in a while, she looked to him, and he sent her encouraging smiles.

They shared a morning message, a few songs, and an introduction to the letter of the day, "y." After that, it was time for some learning centres. Darcy and Fiona got a centre involved in working with letters, some had magnets, some were made of foam, and some were printed on cubes. Darcy was excited to show Fiona the words she knew how to spell. She got so into building words that she forgot to check in with Harry the entire time the centre was in front of her.

When it was time to go to the drama centre with her table, Darcy looked to Harry to see if he was coming with her. Harry told her she should follow Fiona to learn all about the centre, he'd follow in just a moment. Darcy went along dutifully.

Harry sought out Mrs. Morrison. He waited until she was done helping one of her students get onto a tablet, then asked for a word.

"She seems to be doing okay," Harry said to her.

Mrs. Morrison looked over to where Fiona was showing Darcy all the things in the treasure chest in the drama centre. "She does. She seems like a very sweet girl."

Harry smiled. "Thank you." He looked over to Darcy, too. "Do you think I should stay longer, or should I go?"

"I think that's up to you," the teacher replied. "Do you feel comfortable leaving her here?"

"If I'm honest, not entirely," Harry admitted. "But I know I have to. It's time for her to explore the world."

"I promise we'll take great care of her," Mrs. Morrison told him.

"Thank you," Harry said again. He went on to ask, "Should I just leave or say goodbye?"

"I've had parents do both," Mrs. Morrison answered, "but in this particular case, I think you shouldn't just disappear."

"Okay. I'll just go tell her I'm leaving." Harry pulled in a deep breath and headed over to where Darcy was playing with one of the puppets.

Kneeling down next to her, Harry began, "Darcy, sweetheart, can I speak to you for just a second?"

"Papa, look, it's a dragon!" She held up the puppet she'd found.

"It's amazing, bug," he responded, smiling. "So, are you enjoying school so far?"

"It's okay," she told him. "I liked playing with all the letters."

"Good." Harry drew in another deep breath before going on. "Do you think you'd be okay if Papa left?"

The smile immediately dropped from Darcy's face. "I don't want you to go, Papa." She threw down the dragon puppet and flung herself into his arms.

Harry hugged her tightly. "You're doing so great, bug. You have Fiona and Mrs. Morrison to look after you."

"I want you, Papa," Darcy cried into his shoulder.

"I'll be back when school lets out," Harry promised her. "And I'm just a phone call away if you really need me."

Darcy continued to weep, clutching at Harry's shirt.

Harry pulled away so he could look his daughter in the eye. "Darcy, you're the bravest little girl in this whole school. Do you think any of these other kids could have escaped from Room the way you did?"

Darcy shrugged, but her crying did start to wane.

"I don't think any of them could," Harry insisted. "So, don't you think the bravest little girl in the school can make it to the end of the day without her papa?"

"Maybe," she allowed cautiously.

"I promise, you can have Mrs. Morrison call me if you need her to," Harry repeated.

"Okay," Darcy finally capitulated. "I'll try."

Harry kissed her forehead. "I love you so much, bug."

She hugged him fiercely. "I love you, too, Papa."

Though he didn't really want to, he let her go and stood up. "I'll be back the second school is finished for the day."

"Okay," Darcy said before picking up the dragon she'd been playing with.

With one last look at his little girl, Harry turned, waved to Mrs. Morrison--who waved back--and left.

When he got back to the car, Gemma asked, "So, how's she doing?"

"She's doing fine," Harry reported, fastening his seat belt. "But leaving her there was not easy."

"I know." Gemma rested a sympathetic hand on his thigh. "But it's what you've got to do."

"Things were never this complicated in Room," Harry remarked.

Gemma shifted the car into reverse. "Welcome back to the real world."

* * *

Darcy did not need to call for Harry that first day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. Harry loved that she was enjoying school, but he knew now that she was settled, he was going to need to figure out his next step.

As he had told Mishal in his television interview, at one time--before _X-Factor_ was in the picture--he had been interested in physiotherapy. When he had first been taken, he had imagined he would be found soon, and he would be able to get right back to _X-Factor_. The longer he was kept in the shed, the less he allowed himself to think about what he might do if he ever got out. It was too much hope to handle, and after Darcy was born, he had her to focus on.

On Darcy's fourth day of school, Harry sat down with the computer his mum had recently gifted him with and started to do some research on the local colleges to see what he might consider studying.

Harry was in the middle of despairing that nothing was striking his fancy when his mobile began to ring. He was more than happy to put the internet search on hold to see who was calling. The screen told him it was _Louis Tomlinson_.

Harry breathed deeply, then answered the call. "Louis. Hi."

 _"Hi, Harry. I hope this isn't a bad time to call,"_ Louis said.

"No, this is fine," Harry assured him. "Darcy is at school, and I was just browsing stuff on the internet."

 _"She started school?"_ Louis asked excitedly. _"How's she doing?"_

"Really well. She was very nervous at first, but she's settling in nicely," Harry reported. "She even has a little friend called Fiona. That's one thing I always wanted for her. Friends."

 _"That's great."_ Louis told him. _"I'm so glad she's doing so well. How about you? How are you doing?"_

"I'm okay. It's kind of one day at a time here. I'm still going to therapy, and that's helping a lot. I'm just trying to figure out what to do with myself," Harry offered a rundown of where he was in his reintegration.

 _"Would you like to take a break from figuring out what to do next and have lunch with me?"_ Louis inquired. Harry could hear the smile in his voice.

"You made it back to Doncaster, then?" Harry concluded.

 _"I did,"_ Louis confirmed. _"I got here a couple days ago, and it's been nice playing catch-up with my sisters and my brother. The baby twins are so big now!"_

"You ready to leave them already?" Harry joked.

 _"I think they can deal with me leaving for a few hours,"_ Louis said with confidence.

"Then that sounds good," Harry answered.

 _"It took about an hour and a half to get there last time,"_ Louis recalled. _"So that should get me there right about noon. Be thinking of a good place to go eat."_

"I shall try," Harry vowed. "See you around noon."

Once he dismissed the call, Harry decided he would have to put the career search to the side for just a bit, and he went to find his mum. Gemma was out for the day with some friends from secondary school, so it was just him and Anne around the house that morning.

He found Anne in the kitchen fixing a cup of tea. She made one for Harry, too, then they sat and brainstormed where Harry could take Louis to lunch. Once they'd come up with a place that Anne declared would be perfect, Harry spent some time picking the perfect outfit to wear out with Louis.

Just as he'd predicted, Louis arrived a few minutes after noon. He came in to say a quick hello to Anne, then they set out for the pub Anne and Harry had decided would be a good place to eat. It was walking distance from Anne's house, so they just left Louis' car in the drive and headed up to the high street.

The pub was called _The Lion's Claw_ , and it had not been around the corner from his mum's house before Harry was taken. It had a lovely feel to it when they walked in. It was very homey, and the décor was very traditional, lots of dark wood and art out of the 18th and 19th centuries.

The hostess sat them at a corner table. They both ordered a pint and some fish and chips, then their waitress left them to chat.

"So," Louis began. "How are things going?"

"It's a weird time, actually," Harry admitted. "Darcy is doing well at school without me, and I'm living with my mother trying to figure out what to do with my life."

Louis smiled. "You'll figure it out. You just need to give yourself time."

With a sigh, Harry said, "I know. It's just hard when I feel like I've lost so much time."

"Plenty of people take their time figuring out what they want to do. You're only twenty-four. I have faith that you'll find just the right thing to do," Louis stated with confidence.

"Why?" The question escaped Harry almost of its own volition, though once it was out, Harry desperately needed the answer.

Louis was confused. "Why what?"

"Why do you have faith in me?" Harry clarified. "We knew each other for less than a month when I was taken. Yet here you are, paying for my family to stay in London, driving almost two hours to have lunch with me, and telling me you have faith in me. Why?"

"Because when I met you, I knew you were special," Louis explained. "Don't you remember me taking a picture and asking for your autograph?"

Harry nodded. "I do remember that."

"We had a connection," Louis stated. "I know you felt it, too."

Once more, Harry nodded in agreement.

"I was really hoping that when we had that time at your step-father's bungalow, I could get to know you even better and see if you felt about me the way I felt about you," Louis confessed.

Harry didn't even know what to say in response to that. How exactly had Louis felt about him?

So, Louis continued, "When you first disappeared, we all thought you'd be found pretty quickly. Then a week went by, then another week, then another. We had to make a decision about Judges' Houses and whether or not we should go without you."

"Gemma told me that you only went because they promised I could be part of the group if I was found," Harry told him.

"That's true," Louis confirmed. "We talked about it and decided you wouldn't have wanted us to quit. I hope we were right."

"I was incredibly jealous that you all went," Harry confided, "but I'm happy you went and got through."

"When the police didn't find you, everyone assumed you must be dead," Louis shared, visibly shuddering. "I refused to believe that. Even after weeks and months went by with no leads, I had hope that you'd be found."

Louis' words touched Harry more than any he'd heard in a long time. "Thank you," he said softly.

"I think I'd started to fall in love with you," Louis offered up yet another confession.

Harry felt what must have been a thousand butterflies descend upon his stomach at this news, and he felt unable to say anything in return, so he simply waited to see if there was more.

"I think that's why I refused to give up hope, even when everyone kept telling me to move on," Louis said.

"You never went out with anyone?" Harry found that hard to believe.

"Not right away," Louis answered. "But eventually I gave in to the pressure, and I did. I went out with some girls and some boys, but although there were some nice ones, nothing ever felt quite right."

"Are you seeing anyone now?" Harry needed to know.

Louis shook his head. "I was seeing this guy called Sean. We were together about a year, but we broke up about a month before you came back."

Harry was immediately overrun with feelings. Sadness that he'd missed out on so many years with Louis. Bitterness at having had those years stolen. Anger at this stranger who'd gotten Louis' love and attention. Joy that Louis and this Sean person were no longer a couple. Between all of these conflicting emotions, he didn't quite know what to say beyond, "Oh." It covered everything and nothing.

He was saved from having to come up with anything more in depth when their waitress appeared with their food. They took a few minutes to dig in, which gave Harry a few minutes to begin to regain his composure after the hit to his state of mind.

Harry was washing down some chips with his pint when Louis picked up the conversation, thankfully not mentioning his ex-boyfriend again.

"When I heard you were alive and had escaped from being held captive, I wanted to call you right away," Louis revealed, cheeks turning pink. "Liam managed to talk me down and convince me I should give you at least a little time to adjust."

Harry found his voice again. "I'm so glad you didn't wait too long to call, though. I was happy to hear from you."

"So, to go back to your original question about why I had faith…. It's because we were friends, and I hope that we can be friends now," Louis wished, sending Harry a smile that conveyed the hope he was feeling.

Harry smiled back at him. "I hope we can, too."

This last part of their conversation had felt very loaded, so Harry took a moment to eat some more of his fish and chips, and Louis followed his lead and did the same.

When his plate was close to empty, and he felt more composed, Harry asked, "So, you said the baby twins just turned four? What are they into?"

"Well, Ernest is all about superheroes. His favourite is Spider-Man, but he likes all the others as well. He has lots of the action figures and loves acting out his favourite parts from the movies," Louis reported.

"I saw Iron Man One and Two, but I guess I have some catching up to do," Harry lamented, biting the end off of a chip.

"Pace yourself," Louis warned. "There are a lot of movies."

"What about Doris?" Harry prompted Louis to continue answering his question.

Louis obliged him as soon as he was done with a bite of fish. "She likes the superheroes, too, mainly Wonder Woman, but what she's really into right now is horses. I gave her riding lessons for her birthday, and she's loving them."

"Darcy's been enjoying the horses at the therapist's farm," Harry shared. "She hasn't been willing to try to ride one yet, but she loves tending to them. Brushing them, feeding them."

"Once she's completely comfortable around them, maybe she'll be willing to try riding one," Louis postulated.

"I hope so," Harry said.

"So, if it's okay to ask," Louis began cautiously. "What did you do to keep a little kid entertained in a small shed?"

Harry sighed. "I used a lot of imagination. When she was really small, it was pretty easy. Ben brought me a few toys for her to play with, and she certainly didn't know any different than what it was."

Louis nodded his understanding while he sipped at his pint.

"As she got older, it did get a little harder. We turned a lot of trash into toys, since Ben didn't like to pay for much outside of food and clothes. We used empty boxes, foil, empty eggshells, toilet paper rolls, those kinds of things, and we made our own toys," Harry explained.

"And you sang to her, right?" Louis recalled their conversation the night of the ill-fated--for Harry--concert.

"I did," Harry confirmed. "All kinds of songs, not just yours. She really does love _What Makes You Beautiful_ , though. If there was time, I always sang to her when I tucked her into bed."

"If there was time?" Louis plucked out from Harry's description. "I would have thought you'd have too much time in the shed."

Harry swallowed before responding to Louis' very innocent question, then he blew out a breath.

Louis seemed to notice Harry's discomfort and immediately backpedalled. "I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that."

Harry shook his hand. "No, it's okay. It's just…. Ben visited just about every night. I didn't want him to have anything to do with Darcy, so I had to make sure she was down for the night before he arrived."

Louis paled as he no doubt figured out what Ben was visiting for. He pulled in an audible breath of his own before saying, "I can't even imagine how hard it was to try to keep things light and normal for Darcy with all the rest you were going through."

"It felt a lot like juggling sometimes," Harry concurred, "but I had to be the one dealing with Ben. Darcy deserved as close to a normal childhood as I could give her under the circumstances."

"You must have done it right," Louis pointed out. "It sounds like she's adjusting pretty well to the outside world. You gave her all the tools she needed to cope."

Harry couldn't help but blush at Louis' compliment.

Louis went on, "I loved getting to spend time with her, both at the concert and the day after at the Eye. She's a great kid."

The blush in Harry's cheeks intensified. He did manage to be polite. "Thank you. I think so, too, but I am a little biased."

Louis picked up his last chip and popped it into his mouth. When he was done chewing, he suggested, "Maybe next time we go out we can do something with Darcy."

With a smile, Harry said, "That would be nice. She seems to like you."

"Then I'll think about what might be fun to do," Louis told him. "I'll be in Doncaster for a while, so I can come back up any time."

"Even if the drive is three hours round trip?" Harry checked.

"You're worth it," Louis insisted.

They were the words Harry floated on for the rest of the meal, on the walk back home, and for the remainder of the day after Louis left. He knew they were words he would be able to store away and revisit. Any time, any day.

* * *

In the days following his lunch with Louis, Harry continued to spend a fair amount of time trying to figure out what he wanted to do next. He looked at university programs in physiotherapy and law, fields he had considered before he got through to Boot Camp. Gemma and Anne made some suggestions, too--Gemma thought he would make a great lawyer, while Anne thought he would make a great teacher. However, nothing he explored really got him fired up.

He had worked at a bakery before _X-Factor_ , and he had enjoyed that a lot, but he didn't know whether or not that was something he wanted to pursue as a career. It had really just been an afterschool and weekend job to earn some pocket money.

Also niggling at him was the idea that he should probably be thinking about finding a place to live for himself and Darcy. He was loving being with his mother, but he knew that eventually he would be craving independence. However, that craving wasn't manifesting itself yet, so he allowed himself to file that idea away for later contemplation.

The Tuesday after his Thursday outing with Louis brought a visit from Charlie, his lawyer. He sat down with Charlie and his mother at the dining room table. Harry hoped Charlie had brought good news.

After some small talk wherein Charlie inquired after Harry and Darcy's integration back into the world, Charlie revealed the reason he was there that morning.

"I have good news to report," Charlie said, sharing a small smile.

Harry sighed with relief.

"I'll cut right to the chase," Charlie went on. "Yesterday, Ben Morgan agreed to a plea bargain."

"A plea bargain?" Anne repeated. "What does that mean?"

"It means he has agreed to plead guilty to all the charges against him," the lawyer explained.

"That's great," Anne stated, reaching over to squeeze Harry's hand. "How long will he go to jail for?"

"Well, that's why I'm here," Charlie said. "The prosecutors will get a chance to argue for how much time he should serve, and his lawyer will also get to make an argument. The judge will use all that information when he decides how long Ben should go to prison for."

"It should be a really long time," Anne commented fiercely.

"In order to help that along," Charlie went on, "I wanted you, Harry, and you, Anne, to consider writing victim statements and reading them in court. I believe that hearing from each of you about what the kidnapping was like and what Ben stole from you will help convince the judge to put him away for a long, long time."

"Would I have to see him?" Harry wanted to know.

"Possibly, yes," his lawyer answered.

Harry would have preferred never to see Ben again. He had known, however, that there might be a trial and he would have had to testify. The idea of just making one statement and being done with it was appealing--even if he had to see Ben one more time. Ben needed to have the book thrown at him.

"We could ask if you can read it on camera to be played on a screen in the court room," Charlie added before Harry could say anything else. It was more food for thought.

Something else did occur to Harry, though. "Would Darcy have to do anything?"

Charlie shook his head. "No. Not a thing."

This was another relief. As the only witness to things that went on in the shed, Harry had assumed that there was a chance that Darcy would need to testify. It was wonderful that the plea bargain made that unnecessary. Darcy was doing so well. Harry did not want to put her through anything that would set her back.

"Anne." Charlie shifted his gaze to her. "Your statement as Harry's mother and how his disappearance affected you and your family will be a powerful tool, too."

"I'm absolutely willing to do that," Anne agreed immediately. She looked to her son. "What about you, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "I'll do it, too."

Charlie grinned. "Excellent. Start working on those whenever you get a chance. I'll let you know the minute there's a court date, then you can decide whether you want to read the statement live or on camera."

Anne showed Charlie out, then returned to the kitchen, sitting back down next to where Harry still sat.

"What are you thinking, honey?" his mother asked.

With a shrug, Harry told her, "I was just thinking about how much I want Ben to suffer for what he did."

"Amen," Anne concurred.

"It won't be easy to write something that will let the judge know what I went through," Harry pointed out.

"No, it won't," Anne said with a resigned look on her face. "But if it will help convince the judge to give Ben the maximum sentence, I think it will be worth it."

Harry put his hands flat on the table in preparation for rising. "I guess I want to try to get started. I have a feeling it's going to take a lot of work to make it just right."

"You don't have to share every detail," Anne reminded him. "Just sharing a little of what it was like and what you were missing at home is good enough."

Standing up, Harry said, "Okay, then. Let's do what we can to Ben put away for life."

Anne gave him an encouraging smile. "I'm all in."

* * *

It was slow going writing his statement for court. Harry quickly discovered that he was only able to spend a little time every day working on it, then he needed to step away. When he spoke with Jordan about this task, she just said to push the envelope as much as he could without venturing into territory that was uncomfortable. She offered to read it through with him when he was ready, which he knew would be helpful.

The Thursday following Charlie's visit found Harry putting away his statement for the day about an hour before he and Gemma were to go pick up Darcy from school. His plan was to sit down to find something to watch on Netflix, but he had just picked up the remote when his phone rang. The screen told him it was Louis calling. Harry happily muted the television and accepted the call.

"Hi, Louis," Harry greeted him.

 _"Hi, Harry,"_ Louis returned. _"It's still so nice to be able to say that."_

Harry was glad Louis could not see the blush in his cheeks. "How's it going down in Doncaster?"

 _"Very nice,"_ Louis answered. _"I'm getting spoiled a lot, and I'm getting to do some spoiling of my own, too. It's been lovely. Very relaxing."_

"That sounds good," Harry commented.

 _"How about you?"_ Louis countered. _"How are things there?"_

"Okay. Darcy's still enjoying school, and I'm still trying to explore my options," Harry reported. "Not a whole lot different from where I was when we went out last week."

 _"It's not a terrible place to be,"_ Louis remarked. _"Speaking of going out, though, that's why I called. I wanted to see if you and Darcy wanted to go out with me on Saturday."_

Harry didn't even need to think about it. "That sounds nice. I'm sure Darcy will be happy to be included."

 _"Of course,"_ Louis said. _"I look forward to spending more time with both of you."_

"What did you have in mind to do?" Harry wanted to know.

 _"Well, I found a theatre in Manchester still playing **Peter Rabbit** , so I was thinking lunch, then that. Have you gotten to take Darcy to a movie yet?"_ Louis inquired.

Even though Louis couldn’t see him, Harry shook his head. "No, I haven't. That sounds like fun."

 _"Shall I pick you two up around eleven-thirty Saturday morning?"_ Louis proposed.

"Works for me," Harry agreed.

 _"See you then,"_ Louis said before signing off.

Harry still harboured a lot of questions about why Louis seemed so determined to develop a relationship with him when Harry was going to be a lot of work, but he couldn't help how happy it made him. It was especially happy-making that Louis was making such an effort to include Darcy. It meant more than Louis would ever know.

* * *

Harry waited until Saturday morning to tell Darcy the plan for the day. He hadn't wanted her to be distracted at school. Over a pancake breakfast Anne and Harry made together, Harry broke the news.

Darcy was digging into her food as Harry began, "So, bug, guess who called and wants to spend the afternoon with you and me?"

"Who, Papa?" Darcy asked around a bite of sausage.

"Louis," Harry revealed.

He grinned as Darcy gave a little cheer.

"So that's okay with you?" Harry confirmed.

"Yes," Darcy said. "Louis was fun at the Eye."

"He was thinking we could go have lunch, then see a movie in a theatre," Harry shared the plan, not wanting there to be any big surprises.

Darcy's eyes grew wide as saucers. "Really?"

"Really," Harry assured her.

"Will the movie be bigger?" Darcy inquired.

"Bigger than the TV, yes," Harry answered. "And if you play your cards right, you can get some popcorn to eat during the movie." They had made popcorn to eat during a movie at home once, and Darcy had enjoyed the treat.

"When are we going, Papa?" Darcy asked.

"At eleven-thirty, so we have time after breakfast to get dressed, work on your homework, and maybe play a little before Louis gets here," Harry told her.

Just as she had back in the shed, Darcy kept Harry busy right up until the moment the doorbell rang signalling Louis' arrival.

Harry felt familiar butterflies take up residence in his stomach as he opened the front door. He wondered if there would ever be a time when Louis didn't make him so nervous.

Harry had taken his time choosing an outfit to wear, picking out some black skinnies and a grey and black striped shirt. He was going for understated but stylish.

Louis looked like he had stepped out of a fashion magazine. He was wearing a pair of dark brown trousers and a cosy-looking blue shirt trimmed with the same brown as his trousers. He looked amazing. When he smiled and said, "Hello, Harry," he looked even more amazing.

Collecting himself, Harry returned, "Hi, Louis."

Louis' smile grew bigger. "Ready for an afternoon out?"

"Definitely," Harry replied. "Darcy's just inside reading with Mum. As soon as they're done with the book, she should be good to go."

"Perfect," Louis said.

Louis followed Harry into the lounge, where Anne and Darcy were reading on the sofa. Darcy looked up when they came in the room, and she waved shyly to Louis, who waved back with a small smile.

Harry and Louis listened to the end of the story, then Darcy bid goodbye to her grandmother for now and allowed Harry to help her into a light jacket. Together, Harry and Louis moved Darcy's car seat from Anne's car to Louis', then it was time to hit the road.

"So, Styleses," Louis began grandly as he backed out of the driveway, "what would you like for lunch?"

Darcy was quiet from the back seat, so Harry said, "I haven't gotten to have pizza since getting home, and Darcy hasn't ever had it. Does pizza appeal to you?"

"I'm always up for pizza," Louis declared. "And if Darcy hasn't ever had it, that needs to be fixed."

Harry had his eyes on Louis as he headed down the road toward the highway. "Do you know any good pizza places near the theatre?"

"It's been a while since I've been in that particular area, but I find it hard to imagine there's not a Pizza Express nearby," Louis surmised. "If we go there, and she doesn't like the pizza, there are other options on their menu."

Harry turned around to look at Darcy. "How does pizza sound, bug?"

"With all the slices?" Darcy checked.

"Yep," Harry confirmed. "What do you think?"

"If I don't like it, can I get chicken nuggets?" she wanted to know.

"I'm sure something else can be arranged," Harry promised her.

"Okay," she agreed to the plan.

Harry and Louis shared small talk all the way into Manchester and into the car park that Louis said was close to the theatre.

Louis consulted his phone and there was, indeed, a Pizza Express not far away. They only had to walk a couple short blocks and there they were. Harry noticed that Louis once again put on a snapback and a pair of sunglasses to conceal his identity. It seemed to work, because no one gave their small party a second glance.

At the restaurant, Louis asked for a table in a back corner, and he seated himself in a chair so he was facing away from all the other diners. Darcy and Harry sat on the padded bench opposite him, and Darcy was delighted by its bounciness.

When their waitress came, they ordered a cheese pizza to share, along with a plate of plain pasta with butter for Darcy, just in case she didn't like the pizza.

Once they had drinks--sodas all around, even for Darcy, since it was a special outing--they were able to have a real conversation.

"So, Darcy," Louis put his crossed arms up on the table and looked the five-year-old in the eye, "how's school going?"

"I miss Papa when I have to go, but I have a friend called Fiona, and they have more books to read than Room did," Darcy reported.

"What's your favourite book?" Louis questioned her.

Darcy paused to ponder his question. After a moment, she said, "My favourite in Room was _Corduroy_ , and in my classroom my favourite is _Knuffle Bunny_. Trixie has a stuffed bunny, and I got a stuffed bunny from Auntie Gemma."

Harry was surprised to hear Darcy give such an elaborate answer to Louis. She'd seemed quite comfortable with Louis on the London Eye, and apparently she still felt safe to talk to him now.

"I've read _Knuffle Bunny_ with my little sister and brother," Louis informed her. "It's a really good book. You have great taste in books."

She smiled at his compliment.

"You said you have a friend called Fiona," Louis went on. "Do you have any other friends?"

"There's another girl called Winnie that Fiona and I play with sometimes," Darcy told him.

"That's so great," Louis said. He glanced over at Harry with a smile.

Harry couldn't help but smile back. It was gratifying to hear how happy Darcy was about school, and it warmed his heart to hear her speaking so easily with Louis after she had so much difficulty speaking to anyone other than him when they'd first gotten home.

Louis didn't have time to come up with a new question just yet, because their waitress came over with their pizza and the bowl of emergency pasta.

Harry picked out the smallest slice to put on a plate for Darcy, then he took a bigger slice, while Louis did the same. Both men waited to start, however, wanting to see Darcy's reaction to the Italian pie.

Harry demonstrated for Darcy how to pick up the pizza and take a bite, advising her to blow on it first. Thus schooled, Darcy tentatively picked up her slice and bit off the tip. She chewed carefully, and Harry and Louis watched intently for her verdict. She swallowed her bite, then beamed.

"What do you think, bug?" Harry inquired.

"It's so yummy, Papa!" Darcy enthused before diving in for another bite.

Relieved that the pizza was a hit, Harry and Louis dug into their food, too.

They were all on their second pieces when Darcy had a question for Louis. "Mr. Louis? When are you going to do another concert?"

Louis finished his bite of pizza before telling her, "Not for a while. We're going to take a break, then do some songwriting for a new album before we go back out to play more concerts."

"Papa writes songs," Darcy revealed, innocently giving away one of Harry's biggest secrets. He hadn't known she paid any attention to his journal writing, but they had been living together in an incredibly small space. It shouldn't have been surprising that she knew what he was writing when he thought he was writing privately.

Harry was worried Louis had given himself whiplash he turned his head so quickly to look at Harry, a question in his eyes.

The heat in Harry's cheeks was incredibly uncomfortable as he shook his head. "I just had journals. I would write the occasional poems that might be songs. No big deal."

"No big deal?" Louis repeated sceptically.

"No big deal," Harry insisted.

"Okay, then." Louis did not sound convinced as he looked back at Darcy. "Maybe we can do some kind of concert just for you, Ms. Darcy. I'll talk to the lads and see what we can do."

Thankfully, Louis let the subject of Harry's writing drop, but Harry suspected it wouldn't stay dropped.

For the rest of lunch Darcy named some songs she would like One Direction to sing at her private show. Some of the songs were actually theirs. A few of them weren't. They were just songs she'd heard on TV or that Harry had sung to her.

The theatre was not all that far away, and Louis was so proud he'd found a place that was still playing _Peter Rabbit_. It was a great movie for Darcy's first theatre experience. Harry couldn't imagine a Beatrix Potter story would have anything traumatic in it.

As he'd promised, they got popcorn and sodas--Darcy would be eating salad and fruit for the next few days to make up for all this junk food--and Louis had picked great seats for them right in the middle of the theatre.

Darcy was awed by the size of the screen, and she happily sat down between Harry and Louis, ready for her first big screen experience.

The movie ended up going over just as well as the pizza. So Darcy might have crawled into Harry's lap ten minutes into the show, and she might have needed to be reminded to ask any questions she had in a whisper, but it was still a great success.

On the way out of the multiplex, Harry said, "Thank you so much for thinking of this, Louis. We had a great time, didn't we, Darcy?"

Darcy nodded enthusiastically. "I liked watching Peter up on the big TV."

"He was very funny, wasn't he?" Louis asked.

She nodded again, getting a tighter grip on Harry's hand as they started down the sidewalk.

They were halfway down the block, headed back toward the car, when Louis said, "It's such a pretty day out. Instead of going home right away, why don't we stop by a park, let Darcy play a little?"

Harry accepted easily, happy to be getting more time with Louis. "There's a fun park not far from my mum's. Maybe we can go there."

"Sounds perfect," Louis approved of the plan, a little spring in his step as they got closer to the car park.

Less than an hour later, they were walking through the gate of a park Harry's mum had introduced him and Darcy to. There was a small lake and a pretty well-equipped playground. Darcy asked if she could go on the swings. Harry and Louis sat on a bench not too far away to watch her.

"So," Louis opened, "it sounds like Darcy is doing well."

Harry smiled as Darcy pumped her legs to go higher. "She is. There are definitely moments when it shows that she spent the first five years of her life in a shed, but those are happening less and less."

"Excellent. How about you? How are you doing?" The look in Louis' eyes told Harry that Louis wanted the truth.

"I'm okay, though some days it feels like Darcy is doing better than I am," Harry said. When Louis tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, he expanded upon his reply. "I think at some point, I need to think about moving out of my mum's house and get a place for me and Darcy. Mum says she's happy for us to stay as long as we need to, but I feel like I need to get some independence."

"That makes sense, although I don't think anyone would judge you for wanting to stay there a little longer, especially while you're deciding what you want to do for a job," Louis said. "Speaking of which, how goes that?"

"You mean only deciding what I want to do with the rest of my life?" Harry clarified.

Louis nodded. "Only that."

"Not great," Harry admitted. "I can't seem to decide on anything. Nothing feels quite right."

"Darcy mentioned something about songwriting," Louis remembered. "Was she right? Were you writing songs?"

Harry had known this topic would resurface. He sighed softly. "I was. I asked Ben for a journal when I'd been in the shed just a few months. I needed an outlet. Miraculously, he agreed. Sometimes I wrote journal entries about what my life had become, but sometimes I wrote songs."

"Maybe you'll be willing to share them sometime," Louis hoped.

"I don't know," Harry hedged. "They're pretty personal."

"The best songs always are," Louis countered.

"Maybe…." Harry couldn't imagine showing his journals to anyone. He had written about how alone he felt, how much he missed home, how every day was a struggle to get through. He didn't know if he'd ever be able to re-read any of the journals, much less let anyone else see them. They'd been returned to him along with a few other things that had been impounded from the shed, but he had just shoved the box on a high shelf in his bedroom closet.

"Harry?" Louis dragged him back to the present.

He quickly checked to find Darcy was still swinging happily. He felt bad for getting lost in thought. "I'm sorry," he said to Louis. "Just thinking. I got Ben to bring me new journals every few months. I filled them up, then stashed them on the top of the wardrobe. I didn't think much about what I could do with them if we ever got out."

Harry could practically see the lightbulb go on over Louis' head. "Maybe you could come do some songwriting with us. Me, Liam, Niall, and Zayn."

The idea instantly made Harry anxious. "I don't know."

"You don't have to decide right now. Just think about it," Louis encouraged him. "I know they'd love for you to join us as much as I would. You wouldn't even have to bring your journals. Just yourself."

"Okay, I'll keep it in mind," Harry promised.

They shifted their conversation over to less intense topics, allowing Darcy to play a little longer. When her swinging became less exuberant, they left the park and Louis drove them the short distance back to Anne's.

Despite how close they were to her grandmother's house, Darcy fell asleep in the car. Harry gingerly lifted her out while Louis fetched Anne's car keys and put the car seat back in its place.

Harry lay Darcy down on the sofa in the lounge, covering her with a blanket before returning to where Louis was waiting just inside the front door.

"Thanks for the afternoon," Harry told him, smiling softly. "We both had a great time."

Louis smiled back. "I did, too. I hope we can do it again sometime. With Darcy or without."

Butterflies fluttered yet again in Harry's stomach. "I'd like that."

A charged, silent beat passed between them. For just a second, Harry thought Louis was considering kissing him. Involuntarily, he took a step back, not ready for anything like that yet.

After another long moment, Louis cleared his throat. "I'll be in touch."

Harry opened the door to show Louis out, then watched as Louis climbed into his car. He kept watching until Louis' car was a mere speck at the end of the road.

As he finally closed the front door, he wondered if it was too soon to start checking his phone.

* * *

_Beep! Beep!_

_The signal that Ben was on his way reverberated through the room. Sitting on the bed--where he'd been watching the TV--Harry tensed up. Unless he'd already lost count, he'd been in the shed just over forty-eight hours. Ben had left him alone on the first night, leaving Harry to wonder what on Earth Ben wanted. The well-stocked shed suggested this wasn't about ransom._

_The second night, Ben had come back, and Harry began to get a picture of what Ben might want from him. Ben had taken off his trousers and his pants and had made Harry jack him off. In the past year, Harry had started to come to grips with the idea that he might be gay, but he wasn't nearly ready for anything like this. It had been wildly uncomfortable, and Harry had tried hard not to really look and to get it over with as soon as possible. When Ben was done, he left._

_The look on Ben's face this third night was one Harry could only interpret as predatory. There was no conversation. Just orders. Take off your shirt. Take off your jeans. Take off your pants. Harry's hands shook as he did as Ben directed. He felt like he was going to throw up, but he forced himself to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth. Even if it did nothing to help him be any calmer, it did keep him from vomiting._

_While Harry was getting unclothed, Ben undressed, too. Harry's next direction was to get up on his hands and knees on the bed. Ben climbed up behind him, sweaty hands forcing Harry to lean forward._

_Harry was a virgin. He'd never done anything with anyone beyond a little making out. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that Ben was about to take his virginity away from him. He felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes, but he told himself he needed to keep it together until Ben left. To that end, he kept up his deep breathing._

_A snick sounded from behind Harry, like a tube of toothpaste being opened, then a slick finger pressed into his anus, forcing itself inside. It was joined quickly by more fingers until Harry felt like he was being split in two. Embarrassingly, his penis hardened at Ben's actions, but Ben either didn't notice or didn't care. Harry tried not to think about it, but it was difficult to ignore, even with the wildly uncomfortable feeling of Ben's digits inside him._

_After a couple minutes of Ben's invasive fingering, he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock, slick just as his fingers had been. He pushed himself in and out, in and out, in and out of Harry, grunting the whole time, the noise mixing with the news playing on the TV Harry had left on. All Harry could smell was Ben, who stank of cheap cologne and cigarette smoke. He had to double down on his efforts not to throw up. Finally, with one long groan, Ben finally pulled out. Harry's penis thankfully flagged the moment Ben was done._

_Harry didn't move as Ben crawled off the bed, and he didn't look as he heard Ben slipping on his clothes, the zipper loud in the small room. When he heard the beep of the code being tapped into the keypad by the door, then the door being opened, Harry chanced a look behind him._

_His heart caught in his throat. It wasn't Ben leaving the room, sated after raping Harry. It was Louis._

Harry's screams woke the house. Before Harry was truly aware of what was happening, Darcy was crying uncontrollably in Gemma's arms, and Anne was gathering Harry into her arms.

As Harry came back to himself, he realised he wasn't in the shed, he was at home, he was only reliving that first time Ben completely violated him in his mind. His subconscious had produced Louis, inserting him into one of the worst moments of Harry's entire life. With his mum rubbing circles into his upper back, Harry was able to begin to calm down.

Gemma carried a still-crying Darcy out of the room and down the hall--presumably to her room--leaving Harry alone with his mum.

Anne didn't say anything right away, instead letting Harry take his time to compose himself. It took what seemed like ages for the tears to stop flowing and for his breathing to resemble normal. Once it did, his mother dashed out for a glass of water, returning so quickly it was almost like she never left.

He sipped slowly at the water. When he'd had enough, he placed the glass on his night table and looked at his mum. "Sorry to wake you up."

Anne shook her head. "I've told you before, it's okay. You're still working through everything. Nightmares are to be expected."

"I guess," Harry allowed.

"And I guess you probably don't want to try to go back to sleep just yet," Anne said.

"I don't think I could sleep if I tried," Harry confirmed.

"Hot chocolate in the kitchen?" Anne suggested.

"Sounds good to me."

Minutes later, they were sitting at the kitchen table with steaming mugs of hot cocoa. The clock on the microwave said it was 3:46 a.m. Harry hoped he might be able to collect himself enough to get at least a couple more hours of sleep before he had to get up and start his day.

Wrapping his hands completely around the hot mug, Harry took tentative sips so as not to burn his tongue. "Mmmm," he hummed. "Your hot chocolate is the best."

"I make it just like your grandmother did," Anne reminisced. "She always loved it with extra cream. She always said people who made hot cocoa with water were doing it wrong."

Harry chuckled and took another sip of the fragrant liquid.

"So, I'm here for you if you want to talk about your nightmare," Anne let him know, "but I'm also okay with just sitting here sipping cocoa."

Harry took his time considering his options. He had a session with Jordan later that morning, so for once, he decided not to burden his mother with the memories his subconscious had dredged up this time. "If you're okay with just sitting here, that's what I'd like to do," Harry told her.

"That's absolutely okay," his mum assured him. "Whatever you need."

For the next few minutes, Harry got to sit in almost complete silence with his mother, drinking his favourite sweet drink. He knew he would need to talk about his nightmare, especially given Louis' appearance in it, but this was healing, too.

His cup of cocoa was half gone when he spoke softly. "Thank you for always being here for me."

"You're my baby," Anne said simply. "I would do anything for you."

Harry paused for another sip of hot chocolate. Then he remembered his daughter and started to get up. "Darcy…. I must have scared the life out of her."

Anne stilled him with a hand on his forearm. "Gemma's got her. If she hasn't gone back to sleep yet, I'll bet she's close."

Reluctantly, Harry settled back into his seat.

"You may well have scared her," Anne concluded, "but she's proven to be very resilient. I'm sure she'll be fine. You can apologise to her in the morning, if you want."

Harry nodded and hauled in a deep breath. "I'm still not used to having other people take care of her."

"That's totally understandable," his mother said. "I remember the first few times I left Gemma with someone. I thought no one could take care of her as well as I could. But they could take care of her for a little while almost as well as I could."

"I know Gemma will take the best care of her," Harry stated.

"And she needs to know she can rely on all of us, not just you," Anne pointed out.

Harry nodded again, this time yawning, too.

With a gentle smile, his mum said, "Maybe you'll be able to get back to sleep now."

"That would be nice. Tomorrow's Jordan," he reminded her, drinking the last of his hot cocoa.

"Do you think you can sleep with Darcy down the hall?" Anne inquired.

Harry had not slept without Darcy beside him since the day she was born, but he knew that sooner rather than later, she would need her own room, her own bed, space separate from him. "I guess I'll find out," he answered.

"You can always go get her if you need to," Anne told him. "Gemma will understand."

"I'm going to try it on my own," Harry decided.

"All right, then." Standing, Anne took Harry's mug and her own and put them in the sink to worry about later. "Come on, baby, let's go try a little more sleep. Dawn'll be here before we know it."

Harry followed her up the stairs, trying hard to stay quiet in deference to Gemma and Darcy, who were sleeping in the first room they passed upstairs. Outside Harry's room, his mother gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Try to think of happy things," she suggested. "I know it's not easy, but it could help you sleep."

"I'll try," Harry promised. He gave her one more hug, then headed back to bed.

It was odd having so much room in the bed, but Harry made the most of it and found a comfortable position, propping his head up on both the pillows. He closed his eyes and pictured that trip to Disney his family had taken back when he was little. He was able to recall the characters they'd met and the rides they'd gone on. It had been a wonderful holiday.

The memory did the trick. One minute he was remembering Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, the next he was drifting off to a happy dream of him taking Darcy on the same trip. There was no screaming awake from that.

* * *

Harry wasted no time in his next session with Jordan. He told her all about his nightmare. He detailed how the first part of it had been a memory of events from his first few days in Room. Then he told her how at the very end of the nightmare Ben had become Louis.

"So, what do you think that means?" Jordan asked for his interpretation.

"I don't know," Harry replied. "I don't think Louis would ever do anything like what Ben did."

"I don't think so either," Jordan agreed. She paused for a few seconds then said, "Let's back up just a bit. Have you seen Louis since your lunch date?"

Harry nodded. "Darcy and I went with him to lunch and a movie over the weekend."

"How was that?" Jordan wanted to know.

"It was good. Darcy had a great time," Harry reported.

"And you?" Jordan pushed him to give her more. "How did it feel to be out with Louis?"

"It was really nice. Every time we do something it gets a little more comfortable," Harry told her.

"That's great," Jordan praised.

"At lunch Darcy let it slip that I kept journals and did some songwriting," Harry went on. "So Louis talked about me maybe doing some songwriting with the band."

His therapist smiled softly. "What do you think about that idea?"

"I don’t know." Harry shrugged. "On one hand, I have thought about how much I'd like to try songwriting. On the other, I don't know that I want to share my writing with the band."

"Why?"

"It's just very personal," Harry explained. "It's about what I was going through in the shed. I wrote a lot about Louis, too."

"Maybe you could join them to write something new, not anything based on your journal entries," Jordan posited.

"Louis did say I didn't have to bring my journals if we had a songwriting session," Harry recalled with a tiny shrug.

"That may be your answer right there. So, this all makes it sound like your relationship with Louis is building," the therapist surmised. "Did anything else happen?"

Harry rubbed an eyebrow self-consciously. "He…um…I think he was going to kiss me goodnight when he dropped us off."

"But he didn't?"

"I backed away before he could," Harry confessed. "I think he was only going to kiss my cheek, but I wasn't quite ready yet."

"Well, I think I understand how Louis ended up at the end of your nightmare," Jordan proclaimed.

"How?"

"Your relationship is escalating, becoming more intimate. Even though it's moving slowly, you just spent nearly eight years being repeatedly sexually assaulted. You need time to process what's going on and recognise that Louis wants something completely different from what Ben did," Jordan offered her theory. "Your subconscious, however, is placing Louis into the end of one of those sexual assaults. I think your brain is trying to sort things out and hasn't quite gotten there yet."

Harry took a moment to think about Jordan's supposition. It actually made a lot of sense. It was also a little distressing. "Do you actually think I'll be able to sort things out enough to have a proper relationship with anyone, much less Louis?"

Jordan nodded. "I do. It will take a lot of work, but I think you can. I think you're going to need to be honest with whoever that person is. They need to understand what you went through. It can be hard to be intimate with someone after a sexual assault, especially repeated sexual assaults. It can help if you can share with him--or her--what you need to feel safe."

At the moment, Harry couldn't quite imagine himself sharing those kinds of details with anyone, but he could imagine that Louis might well be the one he would eventually be able to share those kinds of details with. "That makes sense. But what if I tell someone everything and they don't want to be with me after that?"

"Then maybe that isn't your person," Jordan said bluntly, adding, "Whoever your person is will need to be both patient and understanding, and they won't be put off by what you've been through."

Harry nodded. Louis was both of those things--and more. Harry sensed, too, that Louis wouldn't run away if Harry told him more about what he'd been through--even the more gruesome stuff.

"You don't need to move at anyone's pace other than your own," Jordan continued. "If Louis is who you want to work on a relationship with, it's okay to want to take it slow. Do you think you'll feel comfortable telling him so?"

Harry shrugged. "I think so. I know I need to, if things keep progressing well."

"I think that's a good idea," Jordan encouraged him. "You'll know when the time for that conversation has come."

"I hope so."

"And we can practise here if you need to," his therapist assured him.

"Thanks," Harry said. He might need to take her up on that, just to be prepared when the time came.

"Hopefully talking about your nightmare here will keep it from repeating," Jordan said, "but don't be discouraged if Louis keeps showing up in them. Remember you've been through a lot. It will take you time to process all of what you experienced and put it behind you, as well as process what you're going through now."

Harry nodded. "I know. I do keep telling myself that, even if it's hard to accept."

"Good. So, do you want to talk more about this or move on to something else?"

Harry could have talked about Louis all day, but he knew there would be plenty of time for that. If he was very lucky.

* * *

Louis called a couple of days later. Harry and Anne had just come home from dropping Darcy off at school.

After they exchanged pleasantries, Louis asked, _"So, what are you up to today?"_

"I was going to spend some more time contemplating my next move," Harry told him. "And then lunch with my sister. She's heading back to London at the end of this weekend."

 _"Sounds like a productive day,"_ Louis commented.

"What about you? What are you up to today?" Harry turned the question around on him.

 _"Funny you should ask."_ The smile in Louis' voice was bright and clear. _"I'm moving some things up to a place I just rented."_

"You just rented a new place today?" Harry had a hard time imagining someone making that kind of decision quickly. Louis hadn't mentioned anything about renting a new place. Harry had thought he was going to be in Doncaster for a little while longer, then he would go back to his home base in London. Then again, Louis was a multimillionaire. Maybe that's what multimillionaires did.

 _"A few days ago,"_ Louis corrected Harry's assumption. _"It's in…Manchester."_

Manchester was just under an hour away from Holmes Chapel, but certainly Louis didn't move for that reason…. "Manchester?" was all Harry could squeak out, slightly confused by what this move might mean.

 _"I decided that if I wanted to see more of you…and Darcy, of course…I should move a little closer,"_ Louis explained. _"I have some friends in the city, and they were able to hook me up with a rental pretty quickly."_

"I don't even know what to say," Harry told him. "You didn't have to move yourself closer to me. What about your family?"

 _"I've gotten to spend plenty of time with them,"_ Louis assured him. _"Besides, they haven't been missing for years and are finally back."_

"Well, I'm very flattered," Harry stated. Flattered was putting it lightly. He was floored that Louis was willing to give up time with his family to be near Harry. The butterflies which visited his stomach every now and again were aflutter in excitement over having Louis closer.

 _"I don't want there to be any pressure, though,"_ Louis insisted. _"The lads are going to be coming up here to song write at some point. There's a studio we love up here. I have plenty to do, so I don't want you to think I'm planning some sort of invasion."_

That made Harry chuckle a little. "Okay."

 _"That said, I was hoping you could come up on the weekend, maybe on Saturday, for a quiet dinner at my place. We haven't really gotten a chance to talk just you and me in a non-public place,"_ Louis pointed out.

Harry realised Louis was right. Almost every one of their encounters since Harry had gotten back had been either out in a public place or with his family all around. Even when they had talked privately in Harry's hotel room, it had still been with Harry's family waiting for them next door.

"It would be nice to spend some time with you with no distractions," Harry said.

 _"You're okay with leaving Darcy for a bit?"_ Louis checked. _"I'm also okay with her coming for dinner. You could put her in the guest room to sleep afterwards."_

"That's so sweet for you to think about Darcy. I think she'll be okay here, though. I'll see if she and Mum and Gemma can have a little Girls' Night," Harry responded. "That'll be nice before Gemma leaves to go back home."

 _"Excellent. So, you're not driving yet, are you?"_ Louis inquired.

There had been no time for lessons yet, but it was on Harry's very long to-do list. "Not yet."

 _"Shall I come and get you, then?"_ Louis issued a follow-up question.

"I suspect Gemma can drive me up if you'll drive me back," Harry proposed a plan. "What time?"

 _"Half-four on Saturday, so we have some time to relax beforehand? I can text you the address. And if it turns out there's a problem with Gemma driving, just let me know, and I'll come down to get you,"_ Louis offered.

"Sounds great," Harry told him. "Thanks for the invitation. I look forward to seeing your new place…. And you, too, obviously."

Louis laughed. _"Glad to know I rate just under my rented flat. See you Saturday."_

"See you Saturday." As he hung up the phone, he realised that he would need to start considering what he was comfortable talking about with Louis. With a dinner date--it was a date, right?--on Saturday, he could put contemplation off no longer.

* * *

Anne and Gemma were delighted to get Darcy to themselves on Saturday night, and Gemma had no problem driving Harry up to Manchester. As soon as Gemma got back, she and Anne would treat Darcy to a manicure and a pedicure, a pizza dinner (Darcy was a little obsessed, and Harry didn't mind, as long as she ate), and an animated movie.

Gemma helped Harry pick out an outfit of brown trousers and mustard yellow sweater. They had gone clothes shopping recently, and Gemma had insisted Harry get a few smart outfits in case he was asked somewhere nice. This particular outfit made him look very put together, while still being comfy and casual.

Darcy was so excited about the plans for the evening that she only cried a little when Harry told her he wouldn't be joining them. He hugged her tight, told her he'd be home after she went to bed and he'd see her in the morning, and followed Gemma out to the car.

At first, they just chatted about mundane things. The weather, the music on the radio, what Gemma would be doing when she got back down to London. Harry had truly missed spending time with his sister. He'd almost forgot how much he enjoyed just sitting and talking with her about anything and nothing.

As they entered the city limits of Manchester and the GPS said they were just ten minutes away from Louis' building, Gemma ratcheted up the intensity of the conversation. "Are you nervous?"

"I am," Harry confessed. "This feels more like a date than anything else we've done, and as you know, I do not have a lot of experience with dating."

"I know," Gemma said. "You like him, though, don't you?"

Harry squirmed a little in his seat, but he nodded. "Yes. I do."

"You liked him before you were taken, too, didn't you?" Gemma continued her mini-inquisition.

Now a blush invaded Harry's cheeks. "I did."

"I think he liked you, too," Gemma revealed. "Didn't he take a picture with you and get an autograph?"

"He did." Harry had forgotten he'd mentioned that to her. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that his family had figured out just how Louis and Harry had felt before Harry's abduction.

"I know he likes you now. Look at all the effort he's making," Gemma pointed out. "He rented an apartment in freaking Manchester for you."

"I know. That's crazy, right?" Harry tried to play it down.

"Crazy sweet," Gemma returned as she executed the left the GPS just called out.

"That, too," Harry agreed. It was sweet, if a little bewildering.

"Has he asked you about what happened while you were locked in the shed?" Gemma wanted to know.

"A little," Harry said. "Jordan thinks I need to tell him more, if we're going to be having a relationship."

"That makes sense." Gemma turned another corner. "Don't let him push you, though. You have to feel comfortable, and if that means going slow, then that's what you should do."

"That's what Jordan said, too," Harry shared.

"Louis' a really good guy. I think he'll be willing to move as slow as you want," Gemma predicted. "If he isn't, then maybe he isn't the right guy for you."

"Jordan said that as well. Are you sure you aren't a therapist in your spare time?" Harry joked.

Gemma chuckled. "Just saying it how it is." She pulled up in front of a swanky-looking high-rise building. "This is it."

Harry set about unbuckling his seat belt. "Thanks so much for driving me, Gem."

"No problem. I haven't gotten you all to myself a lot, so I really enjoyed it," Gemma confessed. "And if something happens and you don't want to ride back with Louis, just call or text and I'll come back up to get you."

Impulsively, Harry leaned across to give Gemma a hug. "You're the best. I missed spending time with you, too."

"Now get up there to your popstar date," Gemma urged him.

Harry laughed and opened the car door. "See you later."

"I'll be waiting up."

* * *

At the door to Louis' building, Harry had to give his name to the doorman. They rang up to Louis to confirm he was expected, then he was ushered into the building and directed to the bank of lifts on the right. After consulting Louis' texts, Harry rode a lift to the sixteenth floor. He stepped out of the lift and turned left, spotting Louis standing in the doorway of a flat halfway down the hall.

"Harry!" Louis greeted him brightly.

Harry walked down the hall and was immediately enveloped in Louis' embrace. Once Louis let him go, he welcomed Harry inside.

Noticing that Louis was in socks, Harry toed off his shoes as he shrugged off his light jacket.

"Would you like a quick tour before we settle down?" Louis inquired.

"Sure," Harry agreed easily, hanging his jacket on the rack just inside the door.

"It's not a big place, so it won't take long," Louis said.

Louis wasn't wrong. He walked Harry through the lounge, the kitchen--where they grabbed two beers--an office, two bedrooms, and two bathrooms, and that was it. It was pretty sizeable--for a city flat--with a lot of light and a view of the street below. This high up, it was nice and quiet. A very comfortable place to live.

As they returned to the lounge, Harry commented, "It's beautifully decorated."

"I would love to take credit for that, but I can't," Louis said. "It came furnished and decorated."

"Then whoever did that did a great job." Harry turned in a circle to really take in the room.

"While we're on the subject of things I can't take credit for, I can't take credit for dinner, either," Louis confessed. "I thought I remembered you saying a long time ago that you liked Mexican food, so I ordered some to be delivered around six. I hope that's okay."

"I can't believe you remember that." Harry was genuinely stunned.

Louis shrugged modestly. "We had that long conversation about food the day after we got made a band, and it stuck with me. So, that's a yes, then?"

"Yes, that's great," Harry assured him. "I haven't had any really good Mexican food since I got back. Darcy's definitely not used to anything spicy."

"That makes sense," Louis said. "Shall we sit?"

Harry nodded, following Louis to the soft black leather couch in the middle of the lounge; they set their bottles down on the coffee table. Louis made sure to give Harry some space, though he did turn his body, pulling one leg up and tucking his foot under his thigh so he could face Harry. Harry did the same.

"So, you said that Darcy's not used to spicy food," Louis reopened the conversation. "What kind of food did you eat? If it's okay to ask…."

"Sure. It's fine," Harry told him, and he meant it. He needed Louis to know what it had been like for him. "Mostly Ben brought in cheap stuff. Bread, sliced cheeses and meats, cereal, canned fruits and veg, that kind of thing. All very bland. Not incredibly healthy, but he never starved us."

"I guess that's something to be thankful for," Louis stated, his tone careful. "I know I've said it before, but I really can't even imagine how hard it must have been for you all those years. Especially taking care of a small child."

"It was definitely hard, mostly at first. When I was alone, I sometimes felt like I was losing my mind," Harry admitted. "I had no purpose beyond what Ben wanted. Being pregnant was terrifying, but once Darcy came, I had a real purpose again. It wasn't easy, not by a long shot, but it made the days so much better having this little person to take care of and love. Even if I didn't know what I was doing a lot of the time."

"Well, she's amazing," Louis complimented him. "Even if you didn't know what you were doing, your instincts must have been spot on."

Harry blushed. "Thanks. Believe me, it was a challenge finding ways to make things normal. Like I think I told you before, it was a lot like juggling. I did have to lie to her, like the thing with all the planets, but mostly we just played games and talked and did school. I tried to keep a schedule, and thankfully, it all worked for her."

"Have you heard anything about a trial?" Louis asked, swivelling the subject just a little. "That bastard needs to go away for the rest of his life."

Harry took a second to adjust to the adjacent topic. "He pled guilty, actually. I'm not sure if it was reported on the news."

"What does that mean, then? No trial?"

"No trial," Harry confirmed. "Just a sentencing hearing."

"Do you have to be there? Say anything?"

"I don't have to, I don't think," Harry replied, realising he hadn't followed up with Charlie to find out if his presence was mandatory. "My lawyer thinks my mum and I should read victim statements, though. I'm working on mine, but it's been tricky."

Louis reached for his bottle of beer and took a sip. Harry had forgotten he even had a bottle of beer, but now that he was reminded, he grabbed his, too.

After setting his bottle back down, Louis had another question. "Tricky how?"

This question required a little pondering. How could he explain this? Finally, he gave it a shot. "I don't quite know how explicit to get. He did horrible, unforgiveable things to me, and the judge needs to know that. But I don't know how much detail to give."

Louis nodded. "I can see how that's a tricky proposition."

"My therapist keeps reminding me that he's the one who's to blame, and that I shouldn't be ashamed about anything that happened," Harry shared.

"That's great advice," Louis pointed out.

"It's easier said than done," Harry countered. "My guilt over following him to the truck colours everything. If I hadn't done that, then none of the rest of it would have happened."

"You were just being your usual kind self." Louis' observation was in concert with everyone else's.

"I know," Harry conceded. "And that's what I'm trying to remember in my statement."

"When does it have to be done?"

"Soon, I guess. Charlie hasn't called with a date yet, but it won't be too long from now."

"Well, if you need someone to read it to or bounce ideas off of, I'm your guy," Louis offered.

"Thanks," Harry returned. "I'll keep that in mind."

Silence took over for a moment, then Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to talk about such serious things."

"It's fine," Louis insisted. "I want you to feel comfortable telling me things."

"It's kind of strange given the different paths we ended up going down, but I do," Harry admitted. "You feel like a very safe place."

"I'm so glad," Louis said with a warm smile.

At this point, Harry shifted the conversation to lighter topics, then, talking about Darcy and some of the things he'd been introducing her to.

He was sharing their experience at a local petting farm when the doorbell rang.

"That must be our dinner," Louis commented, standing up. "Do you want to eat at the table or in front of the TV?"

"In front of the TV is fine. Casual is good," Harry responded.

Louis started walking toward the front door. Over his shoulder, he said, "Plates, silver, and napkins are on the dining table."

Harry stood up to go get them, feeling like everything was going well, and he hoped that would continue.

Less than five minutes later, they were filling their plates with enchiladas, tacos, and guacamole. Louis picked up the TV remote. "What's your pleasure?"

"As long as it's nothing too heavy, I'm good with whatever. I didn't get movie channels in Room, so I'm pretty behind," Harry said. "What do you recommend?"

Louis fired up the large, flat-screen TV and then started Netflix. After scrolling through the options for only a few seconds, he found something. "How about _The Lego Movie_? It's really funny, and it certainly isn't the littlest bit heavy."

"Sounds perfect. Let's do it," Harry declared.

Mexican food on the couch while an animated movie played on the television wasn't quite the dinner and a movie Harry had imagined all those years he was imprisoned. It was, however, perfect nonetheless. He was able to really relax for a little while, a sensation he still needed to get used to. Nights like these would help.

* * *

When _The Lego Movie_ was over, Louis picked _Spy_ , another funny, light movie. By the end of that, it was getting late, and Louis offered to drive Harry home. Harry texted Gemma to let her know she was off the hook, then accepted Louis' offer.

The traffic was light at this hour, and the weather was fair, so the drive was a quick one. Louis put on a CD by The Script, recalling out loud that he and Harry had been to the same concert in Manchester way before they'd met at _The X-Factor_. They chatted about easy topics. Louis shared lots of stories of his younger siblings. They sounded like a lively bunch, and Harry looked forward to seeing them again. He remembered seeing photos of them during Boot Camp. They'd been so young--and the baby twins hadn't even existed yet. Harry marvelled at how grown up they all seemed to be now.

As they pulled up to the kerb outside his mother's house, Harry said, "Thank you so much for having me over, Louis. I had a good time."

Louis threw the car into Park and the ceiling lights came on. "Me, too. I'm glad you came. I hope you'll be willing to get together again. With and without Darcy."

"I'd like that," Harry responded, smiling.

A moment of silence passed between them, then, impulsively, Harry leaned forward to give a quick kiss to Louis' cheek. He could smell Louis' cologne and the faint odour of the Mexican food they'd devoured. As enticing as Louis was, Harry pulled back quickly. He wasn't ready for anything more just yet.

Reaching for the door handle, Harry mumbled, "Good night."

"Good night, Harry," Louis returned, his voice soft and warm. "I'll be in touch soon."

Harry nodded, then opened the door and headed down the front path. When he looked back at the car, he saw Louis watching, a smile on his face, waiting for Harry to make it into the house safely. Harry sent a small wave in Louis' direction, smiling himself at Louis' thoughtfulness.

Despite it being past midnight, Harry found Anne and Gemma waiting up for him. Anne made cups of herbal tea for all of them, then they sat in the lounge to debrief.

"How was Darcy?" Harry inquired first.

Anne grinned. "We had a great time. She has sparkly purple nails, and we ate pizza. We showed her _Inside Out_ , then she went to bed with only a little argument."

Harry smiled wistfully. "It sounds like she didn't even miss me."

"Oh, she did. She talked a lot about you and the games she likes to play with you. She made me promise to tell you to wake her up to say good night," his mother reported.

"I will," Harry assured her.

"So, how was your evening?" Gemma jumped into the conversation.

The smile already on Harry's face grew wider. "It was good. Really nice. Louis ordered in Mexican food, and we watched a couple comedies."

"That sounds lovely," his sister commented. "Did you get to talk any?"

Harry nodded. "It was mostly just easy conversation, but I did tell him a little about what happened in the shed."

"How did that feel?" Anne sipped at her tea while waiting for his response.

Harry needed to pause to find the words. "It felt cathartic. It wasn't easy, but it felt right to share it with him."

Anne appraised him carefully, and he sipped nervously at his own tea as she did. Finally, she asked, "You really like him, don't you?"

"I do," Harry admitted. "I think I have real feelings for him, and I think he does for me, too. I'm just worried he'll have trouble going slow."

Gemma shook her head. "If he truly likes you, he won't. He knows what you've been through."

"Not everything," Harry pointed out.

"But he will. When you're ready to share, he'll understand, and he'll be patient," Anne predicted. "If he isn't, he's not the person I think he is."

"I feel a real connection with him," Harry went on. "It's the same as I felt way back during _X-Factor_."

"I suspect he feels that connection, too," Gemma said.

Harry yawned. "Sorry," he apologised.

"It's been a long day." Anne stood up. "We should both get to bed."

Harry stood, too, and gave first her, then Gemma, a hug. "I love you both so much."

"We love you, too," Anne answered for both she and Gemma.

They all took their cups in hand, then Harry followed his mother and sister up the stairs. They each kissed his cheek, then moved to head to their own rooms.

Without turning on the light--he didn't want to wake Darcy yet--Harry set his tea on his night table, then made a quick trip to the bathroom. After changing into pyjama bottoms and a soft t-shirt, Harry slipped under the covers next to his slumbering daughter.

He kissed her cheek and smoothed back her hair. Her eyes blinked open owlishly. "Hi Papa," she whispered.

"Hi, bug. I'm home," he told her. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too. We painted nails and ate pizza," she reported.

"That sounds like a lot of fun."

"It was," Darcy confirmed, issuing a giant yawn.

"Okay, bug, back to sleep," Harry ordered.

She didn't argue, just curled up on her side and closed her eyes. Harry curved his body around hers and closed his own eyes.

For the first time in a very long time, good memories were at the front of his mind as he courted sleep. No need to put anything in a box to drift away. He fell asleep with a picture of Louis in his mind and a smile on his face.

* * *

To keep things moving at a comfortable pace--nothing too fast--the next time Louis wanted to get together, Harry requested it be another outing with Darcy. Louis was fine with that, and suggested that this time, they take her to a trampoline park. Harry had no idea what that was, but agreed it sounded like fun.

They went on a Sunday. Louis took them for lunch first, just like last time. Pizza again, at Darcy's request. Then they went to the trampoline park.

Darcy had a blast. Harry and Louis did, too, jumping all over the place, trying to keep up with an energetic five-year-old. She was so worn out, Harry ended up putting her to bed early that night.

The next morning, Louis rang early. Harry hadn't even taken Darcy to school yet. She and her grandmother were getting dressed, and he was trying to pull breakfast together. He moved the pan with the bacon in it to the side and turned off the hob before answering the call.

"Hi, Louis, thanks for yesterday," Harry said. "Darcy and I had a great time."

 _"I did, too,"_ Louis returned. _"But I have news."_

"News?" Harry echoed carefully.

 _"I'm actually surprised this hasn't happened before, but someone saw you, me, and Darcy at the trampoline park yesterday. We are all over the internet,"_ Louis reported, his tone very serious. _"You can imagine what they're saying. The international pop star out with the boy who was held captive and his daughter."_

"Are they saying it like it's a bad thing?" Harry wanted to know.

_"Some are, some aren't."_

Being on the news was not a new experience for Harry. When he was first taken, he'd seen himself on the news night after night until he'd been gone long enough, it was assumed he must be dead.

Once he was home again, he hadn't watched daily, but he knew he and Darcy were on the news often. It was a great story. Boy poised for success on _The X-Factor_ stolen at sixteen, held captive for so many years, forced to bear his captor's child, and, in the end, managed to escape. The nation had been transfixed.

Now that he and Darcy had been home for well over a month, they had dropped out of the news cycle. It wasn't incredibly surprising that he would land right back in it when it was discovered he and his one-time band mate were seeing each other.

 _"Harry?"_ Louis pulled Harry's attention back to the conversation at hand. _"We need to decide how we want to address this."_

"I'm okay with acknowledging that we're…exploring a relationship," Harry told him. "I think we can ask for privacy. For Darcy's sake. The public doesn't have a right to the details. What do you think?"

 _"I'm inclined to agree. I'm not sure anyone would buy a denial. They have photos of us,"_ Louis revealed, having buried the lede.

Harry gasped. "They're showing Darcy's face?"

Up until now, the media had been good about blurring out Darcy's face in any photos posted publicly. Harry had very much wanted her to be out of the limelight. No one needed to know what she looked like. Had he fucked that up by taking her out with Louis?

 _"No, they're not,"_ Louis was quick to answer. _"They're still blurring her face."_

Harry let out a breath he didn't even realise he was holding. "Thank God."

 _"I can get my management to issue a statement,"_ Louis offered. _"Or your lawyer can. Whichever you prefer."_

For a moment, Harry gave it some thought, then he answered, "Yours are probably better at this kind of thing, though I think I'd like my lawyer to look it over before it goes out."

 _"Works for me. If he wants to change anything, he absolutely can,"_ Louis said. _"I'll get them right on it. We probably want a statement out there by noon."_

"Noon. Wow. That's soon," Harry remarked.

 _"It's better if we can get the real story out there as soon as possible before people start making shit up,"_ Louis explained.

Before Harry could respond to Louis' logic, Darcy padded into the kitchen. "Papa! I'm ready for school! You need to tie my laces, please."

Harry held his phone to his chest so he could address his daughter. "Thank you so much for being polite. Go sit down at the table, and I'll help you in just a minute."

Darcy did as he asked, skipping over to the table to sit in the seat she'd claimed as her own since arriving at her Granny's.

Lifting his mobile back up, Harry said, "Sorry about that."

_"No, no, no. You take care of Darcy, and I'll take care of getting the statement started. I'll text you when it's ready for your lawyer to take a look."_

"Okay," Harry agreed.

 _"And don't worry,"_ Louis urged before Harry could hang up. _"We'll get this sorted."_

* * *

**Joint Statement from Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles: As evidenced by photos taken outside Kickair, a trampoline park in Manchester, Tomlinson and Styles have reconnected following Styles's return home after nearly eight years in captivity. Also pictured was Darcy Styles, 5, Styles's daughter.**

**In 2010, Tomlinson and Styles were contestants on _The X-Factor_ , and they were put together in a band, along with Liam Payne, Niall Horan, and Zayn Malik. Styles was kidnapped before the band got put through Judges' Houses and eventually came in third in the competition. Before he was taken, Styles was already fast friends with Tomlinson, and Tomlinson immediately contacted Styles once he returned home.**

**The two have been busy reconnecting and Tomlinson has enjoyed getting to know Darcy. At this point, they don't want to put a label on their relationship, and they ask the public for privacy as they continue to get to know each other all over again. When there is news to share, Tomlinson and Styles will be sure to share that information as they are able.**

* * *

Once Gemma had returned to London to spend a few weeks catching up with her boyfriend and her life, Louis arranged for a driver to be hired to shuttle Harry (or Harry and Darcy) to and from Manchester. Though Harry protested the expense, neither he nor Louis thought it was fair to ask Anne to play chauffeur for this long drive every time they wanted to meet.

After their joint statement hit the press, the media did manage to mostly back off. While Louis was a public figure, Harry was not. More importantly, the media did seem to get that Harry was still recovering from a trauma and didn't need to do so under a microscope.

Not quite two weeks after their statement was released found Harry at Louis' flat while Darcy was back in Holmes Chapel getting Anne all to herself. They had not had a lot of alone time, Harry using Darcy as a bit of a buffer to keep things slow. He was starting to feel braver, however, and had accepted Louis' offer of a kid-free evening.

Louis took the opportunity to test a recipe he told Harry he'd been playing with for a few years, chicken stuffed with mozzarella wrapped in parma ham served with some homemade mash. Harry declared it a success, and when they were done, they settled on the couch in the lounge to sit and talk with some bottles of beer.

As was becoming a habit, they sat on the couch facing each other. Louis inched a little closer this time than he had done the last, and Harry didn't mind. He still had plenty of personal space.

"So, how's the school exploration coming?" Louis wanted to know.

Much as Harry wished this was a question about school for Darcy, it wasn't. He continued to struggle with trying to figure out what he wanted to do next. Nothing felt quite right, and everyone he talked with about this decision encouraged him not to settle, so he was determined not to.

He sighed and shook his head. "Same as it was last time you asked."

"Well, it's not like there's a deadline you need to decide by," Louis pointed out. "You can take as much time as you need."

"I know." Harry sighed heavily. "It's just frustrating."

Louis took a thoughtful pull from his bottle. Harry sipped from his bottle, too. It was clear Louis was working through something in his mind, and Harry just had to wait him out.

Finally, Harry's patience paid off when Louis cleared his throat. "So, we'd talked before about you maybe joining us for some songwriting. I know that nothing would thrill Niall, Liam, and Zayn more. Have you thought any more about that?"

"I have," Harry admitted. "It's such a wonderful offer. It just makes me a little nervous. I'm more than seven years out of the game. The only writing I've done has been in journals. I've never done anything with music, other than in my head."

"If you've been writing, that's all that matters," Louis said. "Someone else can figure out the music. You're clearly a lyricist."

Harry smiled, feeling his cheeks warm. "Are you sure the others would be okay with writing with me?"

"I am one hundred percent sure." Louis' tone was as firm as Harry had ever heard it. "I can set it all up tomorrow. If you're in."

After pulling in a deep breath, Harry nodded. "Okay. I'm in."

Next thing Harry knew, Louis was leaning forward to kiss him. Harry grew still and told himself to keep breathing. When Louis' lips touched his, it was like what he imagined being struck by lightning felt like. A shock wave sped from the bottom of his spine right up to his neck.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to lose himself in the kiss, maybe allow Louis to deepen it. He knew he had to stay present and remember that this was Louis.

When Harry didn't pull away, Louis did deepen the kiss--experimentally pressing the tip of his tongue up against the middle of Harry's lips. As Harry slowly opened his mouth to let Louis in, Louis tilted his head a little more and brought a hand up to cup Harry's cheek.

Harry was just about ready to shift from being a passive participant into a more active participant when Louis began to rub a thumb up and down his cheek. It was a tender move, but it also shot Harry back to the shed and one of the many moments in which Ben had executed that exact move. Harry backed away from Louis instantly, shuffling until his back hit the arm of the sofa. Once there, he worked to bring his breathing down to normal.

Realising he'd hit a nerve, Louis immediately said, "I'm so sorry."

Harry shook his head. "No, it wasn't anything you did. Well, it was," he amended, "but there's no way you could have known that. The thumb on my cheek…. That was something Ben did."

The breath Louis sucked in was audible.

Shaking his head again, Harry went on, "You absolutely couldn't have known. It's something I'm working on in therapy, but seven and a half years is a lot to unpack and throw out."

Louis' deep breath was audible, too. "I can't even imagine."

"Jordan tells me it may take some time, but she thinks I'll eventually be able to do…things without thinking about Ben." He was thinking about Ben now, though, and it made him shudder.

Regarding Harry with a serious look on his face, Louis informed him, "I'm very patient."

"Are you sure?" Harry questioned him. "It could take a long time for me to really work through everything."

"I'm positive. You take all the time you need," Louis insisted. "In the years you were gone, I went out with a lot of people. Nothing felt right. You were always on the back of my mind. I had felt a connection when we met, and I was so excited when we were put in the band because I would get more time with you. I've never felt that kind of connection with anyone else."

The blush Harry felt in his cheeks this time was coupled with a tightness in his heart. He couldn't believe that Louis had literally waited for him. Though he had no reason to believe Harry would ever come back--or was even still alive--Louis had not given up and just gotten together with someone else. He was sat with Harry on this couch, telling him he'd continue to wait.

"I want this to work," Louis went on while Harry processed. "If it takes some time for you to feel comfortable, that's absolutely fine. I just want you in my life however I can get you."

Now, in addition to the blush and the tightness in his heart, Harry felt tears gathering at the corners of his eyes before falling down his cheeks.

Louis reached for a tissue, grabbing one from a box on the coffee table. "Did Ben ever wipe tears from your eyes with a tissue?"

"Not once," Harry whispered. Ben had definitely never given a shit about how Harry felt.

As if Harry were made of the finest porcelain, Louis reached over and wiped Harry's eyes. Tilting his head, then, to meet Harry's gaze, Louis said, "You and me, we’re going to get through this together. Well, you, me, and Darcy."

Harry nodded, and he took a moment to pull in a couple deep breaths, not quite yet ready to speak again. True to his word, Louis was patient. He sat there quietly--having said his piece--and gave Harry all the time in the world.

Finally, Harry took a last deep, cleansing breath before saying, "I'm sorry to turn our evening into a couples therapy session."

Louis shook his head so definitively his fringe swayed. "No apologies. Never. Not for this. Okay?"

"Okay," Harry agreed.

"So, what would you say to a little light comedy this evening?" Louis inquired. "Perhaps one that doesn't have to be kid-friendly."

Harry gave him a small smile. "I think that sounds perfect."

Louis reached for the remote on the side table and pointed it toward the TV. "I know just the right one."

* * *

The next couple of weeks felt like a new normal. Darcy continued to thrive at school. She had a small cadre of friends who didn't care at all that Darcy's upbringing before she met them was less-than-conventional. They just had fun together.

Des was a frequent visitor, wanting to get to as much time with Harry as he could, as well as get to know his granddaughter. Harry truly appreciated the support he was getting from all the people in his life, and Darcy was learning some wonderful lessons about all the people who loved her almost as much as her papa.

Harry had decided to ease up on the pressure he was putting on himself to decide on his next move, be it school, an actual job, or getting a flat of his own. Instead, he threw himself into therapy, trying to work through all the issues keeping him from getting more serious with Louis. He knew recovery was a slow burn, not a quick fix, but it felt good to work on it several times a week.

He did get himself a provisional driving licence and began lessons. Anne insisted she had no problem whatsoever driving him around town. She particularly enjoyed the school runs and getting to see how happy Darcy was both when they dropped her off at school in the morning and when they picked her up at the end of the day. Harry wanted some independence, though, and this seemed a good first step.

Louis and Harry traded off meeting up in Holmes Chapel and Manchester. This seemed fair. It helped Harry feel better about the expense of the driver Louis had employed and gave Louis more time with Darcy. They were keeping things light and easy, and Harry appreciated the space.

It was a Tuesday evening when Louis texted Harry just after Harry had put Darcy to bed.

**Hey there. If I send the car tomorrow morning at half-nine, can you meet me in Manchester?**

**_Sure,_** Harry responded. That would give him a little time between dropping off Darcy and being picked up to get himself ready for whatever Louis had planned. **_Are we meeting at your house?_**

**It's a surprise.**

Harry was not a huge fan of surprises, but he knew Louis wouldn't plan anything that would be detrimental to him. **_Okay. That sounds fine. I'll be ready for Jesse at half-nine. How should I dress?_**

**Casual is fine.**

**_I can do that._ **

**See you tomorrow!**

Harry didn't sleep particularly well that night, puzzling over what on Earth Louis' surprise could be. He had genuinely no idea, and the stress of not knowing--even if it was one hundred percent likely to be a good thing--forced adrenaline into his system.

Thankfully, the adrenaline meant he was wired, so Harry wasn't at all sleepy when his usual driver, Jesse, showed up, as planned, a few minutes before half past nine in the morning.

As they pulled away from the house, Harry tried to coax their destination out of Jesse, but the driver had been sworn to secrecy, so Harry resigned himself to the usual small talk they engaged in when they made the Holmes Chapel to Manchester trip.

Harry wasn't very familiar with what was where in Manchester. He hadn't spent a lot of time there as a kid, and though he always looked around when he and Louis went out in the city, he didn't know the lay of the land well enough to be able to guess where Jesse was taking him.

It turned out to be a squat building in a nice, gentrified part of the city. Louis was standing right outside the door waiting for him, dressed casually in trackies and a t-shirt. A snapback rest atop his head, and he wore sunnies, though those did naught to hide who he was--not from Harry, in any case.

Louis greeted Harry with a chaste kiss on the cheek. He then walked back to the car and told Jesse he would text him with a pick-up time. As Jesse drove off, Louis guided Harry into the red brick building.

"Where are we?" Harry wondered as they passed by a reception area.

Louis waved to the young man behind the desk as he said, "You'll see." He then led Harry to a lift, which carried them up to the fourth level of the building. As they walked down a long corridor, Harry tried to catch a glimpse into the rooms they passed, but all the doors were closed. Louis finally stopped at a door with a thin window on the right side. He rapped on the door twice before opening it.

It was immediately clear to Harry where they were the minute they entered the room. It was a recording studio. He and Louis were walking into a spacious open area with couches, a couple of easy chairs, three or four stools, a piano, and a variety of musical instruments. At one end, behind a pane of glass, was the recording booth, which at this moment was devoid of people.

The room they were in was not empty. Sat on the couch were Liam and Niall, while Zayn perched on a stool. They all greeted Harry with a wave. Harry waved back cautiously. He wasn't exactly sure why they were there, though he was beginning to get an idea.

He looked to Louis and asked, "Is this to do with songwriting?"

Louis grinned over at his bandmates. "I told you he'd figure it out straight away!"

"Louis told us you were into writing lyrics," Liam told Harry. "And we need to get started writing for our new album, so we thought you might like to join us and help us with some of the songs."

The very thought gave Harry anxiety, but at the same time, it was an exciting thought.

Something else occurred to him. "But none of you except Louis is based in Manchester right now."

"That, son, is why they invented planes," Liam pointed out with a sly grin.

Harry sometimes forgot they were all multimillionaires.

"Come sit," Niall encouraged, patting on the easy chair adjacent to the couch.

Harry nodded and took the seat Niall offered. Louis balanced himself on the arm of the same chair.

"This is just the very early stages," Louis explained to Harry, looking down at him. "Very easy and loose. We usually just throw ideas around. It's very free-flowing."

"You can just listen if you want," Niall said, "but if you have any ideas, we can't wait to hear them."

"Absolutely," Zayn chimed in. Harry remembered him being quiet at Boot Camp. Apparently that much hadn't changed.

"I've even got a surprise for you!" Niall exclaimed, popping up from the couch and walking over to a guitar case leaning against the wall. He brought the case over to the seating area, placing it on the floor in front of Harry and opening it. "Ta da."

Harry gasped and covered his mouth with his hand. Inside the case was a beautiful guitar with dark brown edges and a deep tan face. None of that was what made tears leap to Harry's eyes. It was the _Styles_ written in black script along the bottom curve of the instrument that did it.

"I remembered you saying you really wanted to learn to play guitar," Niall went on to say. "I figured we could start lessons today."

He needed a moment to compose himself, but then he stood to give Niall a huge hug. When he pulled away, he told him, "Thank you. I can't believe you remembered that."

"Of course," Niall returned. "It kind of felt like you were always with us."

"Can I?" Harry gestured down to the guitar.

Niall grinned. "Go for it."

From the moment he picked up the guitar, Harry got lost in the day.

First, Niall gave him an introductory lesson, and Harry found that he was a fast learner. He was playing a little tune within an hour. It felt amazing to create music, even if at the moment he could only play something simple.

After a lunch of pizza--it was a good thing he felt like he was still making up for seven plus years of missing pizza, since he was having a lot of it lately--they settled down to work on some proper songs.

Niall, of course, played the guitar. Louis sat at the piano, Liam commandeered a drum machine, and Zayn hunched over a laptop to make notes and jot down ideas. Harry took a legal pad and a pencil in hand and wrote down whatever came to him as the others played music. He was a little nervous to share what he'd written at first, but the band were very encouraging, and he felt more and more comfortable as the afternoon wore on. He even sang along as they tested the lyrics and music together.

By the end of the day, they had a rough song, and the band assured Harry that he would be credited with helping them write it. It was an incredible feeling to know he was part of something that might be used on their album.

Niall, Zayn, and Liam all planned to catch flights back to London early that evening. They all hugged Harry goodbye and made him promise to join them for another writing session. They even promised they'd be happy to trek back up to Manchester. It both warmed Harry's heart and made him desperately sad he had not been allowed to stay on the same path as the band.

Louis waited out front with Harry for Jesse to arrive. With Harry's new guitar in its case on the ground between them, they leaned against the red brick of the building and watched the sun set in the rectangle of orange sky behind the shorter building on the other side of the road.

"Thank you so much for setting that up," Harry said. "I had a really good time."

Louis beamed. "So, it felt right? Like something you were meant to do?"

Harry considered Louis' words. "It did feel right. It was amazing to put all those pieces together to make a song. It's a pretty good song, too, yeah?"

"It is," Louis agreed. "I suspect we'll end up using it on the album."

"I'll have to find someone to work with on the guitar," Harry noted, looking fondly down at Niall's gift.

"I'll bet we can find someone," Louis stated. "If Niall doesn't insist on being your main instructor."

Harry laughed.

"I'm really glad you had a good time," Louis continued. "I was a little nervous about setting it up."

"It was great," Harry assured him. "I definitely want to do that again."

"I hope you'll be willing to do some with me," Louis wished. "And I am happy to help set you up with other songwriters, too."

Harry saw Jesse turning the corner onto the street. "I think I might like that. I'd like to do more with you and the rest of the band first, though."

"That would be my--our--pleasure," Louis returned, beaming again.

Harry grabbed his guitar, then kissed Louis on the cheek. "Thanks again. This was a great day."

As he climbed into the car, Harry realised that for the first time since he'd escaped the shed, he felt like he was part of the real world again. It felt fantastic.

* * *

Gemma couldn't stay away. Most weekends she made the trip up from London, claiming she needed to make up for lost time with both Harry and Darcy. The weekend following Harry's songwriting adventure was no different.

On the Saturday morning, Gemma rose with Darcy and took her out to breakfast to get a little Girl Time with her niece. Having now had quite a few experiences, Darcy was enthralled with the idea of eating at a restaurant, awed by telling someone what she wanted to eat and having it appear before her like magic.

A nice by-product of this outing was that it gave Harry a little break and time to have a leisurely breakfast of his own with Anne. They hadn't had much time to talk in the last part of the week.

They made French toast and sausages together before sitting down at the kitchen table with full plates and cups of steaming tea.

"I love Darcy with every fibre of my being, but it is nice to have a quiet breakfast this morning," Harry commented, cutting a sausage into small pieces with his fork. "It isn't bad to think so, is it?"

Anne smiled. "No, of course not. It's healthy to want space, even from the people you love, even your kids."

Harry took a sip of his tea.

"So, are you still feeling a little high after your day of songwriting?" Anne wanted to know. She sliced a corner off one of her triangles of French toast.

Harry nodded. "It was so incredible. Like finding the missing piece of a puzzle."

"I'm so excited for you," Anne told him. "I know you've been struggling with what to do with yourself."

"I've been thinking about it a lot," Harry admitted. "If I want to try to be a songwriter, I'm not sure I can do it from here."

With a sigh, Anne said, "It probably would make sense to be somewhere a little more…metropolitan."

"That's what I was thinking," Harry concurred. "Even though I hate the idea of leaving you."

"Are you thinking Manchester? London?" Anne probed as she sipped at her tea. "Somewhere else?"

"It depends…." Harry hesitated to complete the thought.

"On Louis?" Anne ventured carefully.

The blush which often accompanied thoughts of Louis appeared fast and furious. "Maybe," he conceded.

"So, it's still going well between you?" Anne checked.

"I think so," Harry answered. "When I'm with him, it just feels right. Like it was meant to be, you know."

Anne smiled softly. "I'm so glad. He's such a good man." Her smile dimmed to ask, "He isn't putting any pressure on you to speed up your relationship, is he?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope. Not at all. He doesn't even know I've started thinking about moving, even if it does make sense to eventually consult him."

"Of course. But the big decision needs to be yours," Anne insisted.

"I don't want to do anything until school lets out for the summer. I don't want to make Darcy switch schools mid-term," Harry explained.

"That makes sense," Anne agreed.

"Do you think she'll handle another move okay?" Harry wondered aloud.

"Sure," Anne replied. "Kids are resilient. As long as she has you, she'll be fine."

"She'll miss you like crazy, though," Harry proclaimed. "She adores you. Just like I knew she would."

"And I adore her," Anne returned. "But once you move, it's not like I'll never see you. I'll be visiting all the time. And I'll expect you to visit here all the time."

"Of course," Harry said. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Now," Anne sat up straighter in her seat, "if we finish our breakfast quickly, we may have time for a sneaky Saturday morning nap before Gem and Darcy get back."

Harry grinned and more tightly gripped his fork and his knife. "As ever, I like the way you think."

* * *

Niall, Liam, and Zayn had such a good time writing with Harry that they all came up for another session a couple of weeks later.

It was another successful day. Niall gave Harry another guitar lesson, and Harry felt even more comfortable contributing to the session than he had the first time. Some of that was down to him feeling more and more convinced that this was his calling, and some of that was down to the total support he was receiving not just from Louis, but from the other guys as well. They treated him like an equal, like he was part of the band, just like he'd been meant to be.

By the end of the session they had another rough song for the album, and though Niall, Liam, and Zayn joined Harry and Louis for dinner at a restaurant not far from the studio, they all had plans afterwards, meeting up with friends they had in Manchester.

This left Louis with Harry.

"Do you have to get back right away?" Louis asked him as they walked back to Louis' car.

Harry shook his head. "Mum said she'd take care of bedtime if I needed to be here late."

"Is Darcy okay being put to bed by someone else?" Louis wanted to know.

"She wasn't at first," Harry answered. "But she is now. I mean, I wouldn't feel comfortable leaving her with a babysitter, but my mum…. My mum's good."

"So, do you want to come back to mine for a bit, then?" Louis inquired.

"Sure," Harry agreed easily.

They'd continued to spend a lot of time with each other. On the weekends, that time was spent with Darcy, each outing an introduction to something she'd never experienced before. So far, the local children's museum was a real favourite.

During the week--when Darcy was at school--Harry had two endeavours he was seriously invested in. First, of course, was his therapy. Jordan was an instrumental part of his recovery. He'd told her things he hadn't told anyone else, and she offered no judgment, only staunch support as he tried to put things behind him. Anne continued to join him for therapy, too, and the fact that they were talking through all the rough stuff together made things that much smoother at home. He even got brave enough to tell his mother about the first baby. She had cried with him as he told her, but it felt good to finally share this with her.

The second endeavour was driving lessons. It was important to Harry that he know how to drive before he moved away. Even if he didn't need a car living in a big city, driving was a rite of passage he'd been cheated out of. He needed that licence as a symbol of getting back something that had been taken from him.

When he wasn't involved in either of those things, he was with Louis. Mostly they just hung out, watching TV or talking. When Harry was feeling it, they experimented with kissing in such a way so as not to evoke a memory of Ben. Though the intimacy was by no means easy, it got easier every time.

On this particular evening, Louis got them both bottles of beer and found a footie match to put on the telly. Louis turned the sound low so they could talk.

"So, I think the session went well," Louis commented, twisting the cap off of his bottle. "How did it feel for you?"

"It felt really good," Harry replied, smiling softly. "I think we came up with another good song."

"It's definitely a good song," Louis stated, the wattage of his smile a bit higher than Harry's. "You're a really good lyricist. And once you're feeling more confident on the guitar, I'll bet you'll find you're good at the melody part, too."

Now Harry was blushing. "I hope so."

"Did the session help to solidify the idea that you want to give songwriting a shot?" Louis wanted to know.

Harry had told Louis that the first session he'd had with the band had felt more right than any other career path he was considering. He knew he wouldn't have to worry about money for a while, since he had been paid a tidy sum for the interview he'd done soon after coming home. There were lots of other offers, too, which Harry had put off, but he knew he could pull the trigger on any of them at any time. He could well afford to give songwriting a shot. Louis had agreed.

"It did," Harry responded. "Though I was pretty sure even before today."

"You talked to your mum about it, didn't you?" Louis asked with a knowing smile.

"I did," Harry confirmed, loving that Louis had grown to know him so well. "We talked about the logistics of me giving it a shot."

"Oh?" Harry had not talked to Louis about this part.

"I realised that if I really want to try this, I can't really do it from Holmes Chapel," Harry explained.

Louis nodded slowly. "Well, at first you might be able to, but yeah, you'll have an easier time in a big city. Though I can hook you up with some people, I imagine."

Harry's initial reaction was to decline the offer, try to do it himself, but he quickly switched gears. He would be an idiot to turn down help from a genuine international singer who was a songwriter himself. "That would be great," he told Louis. "Hopefully we can write together again, too."

"Oh absolutely," Louis assured him. "We're two for two. We can't stop now. I know the lads will agree."

"Oh, good." Harry was relieved to have that to look forward to again.

After a drink from his beer, Louis inquired, "Have you thought about where you might want to move to?"

"Well…. I was thinking that was something I should discuss with you," Harry said carefully.

Louis raised his eyebrows just a little. "Okay. I'm honoured you want to include me in such a big decision."

"Well, it affects you, too," Harry pointed out. "If we're going to continue working on this relationship, it would help if we were living near each other."

"I think we can make it work no matter where we live," Louis declared with supreme confidence. "That said, it would be nice for you and Darcy to be close by. Were you thinking Manchester? Or London?"

Harry tilted his head from side to side. "Each one of those has its pluses and minuses. If Darcy and I moved to Manchester, my mum would still be close. But I know the music scene is much bigger in London, and Gemma's there. And it's your home base, too."

"It is easier to be in London when the band is in full swing," Louis admitted. "But Manchester's been great. I could handle being here a lot of the time, if you decided you wanted to stay closer to home."

"There's so much to think about." Harry sighed and reached for his beer bottle, taking a few small sips. "I need to think about Darcy, too. Which would be better for her? I need to research schools and such to see what the options are."

"You think she'll be okay with moving?" Louis wondered aloud.

"I asked my mum the same question," Harry said, chuckling. "She seemed to think so. Darcy's coped really well with the move from Room to the outside world. I imagine with some prep, she'll cope with moving somewhere else, even if she will miss being with Granny every day."

"I'm sure you'll make the best choice," Louis said. "And I'm here for whatever. To talk, to look at places, to visit schools. Whatever you need."

Harry smiled. "Thanks. You've been so amazing."

"I'm pretty sure I've said this before. I want this to work," Louis insisted. "I'm happy to do whatever it takes to make that happen."

Impulsively, Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips to Louis' in a feather-soft kiss. Louis didn't move a muscle at first. It was the first time Harry had initiated anything between them beyond a kiss on the cheek. Harry pulled his lips away after a moment, then moved back in for more.

Once it was clear Harry was up for something a little less than chaste, Louis leaned into the kiss.

They had kissed quite a bit since that ill-fated kiss where Louis had inadvertently summoned a memory of Ben. Louis was always extremely solicitous, making sure to ask Harry about something new. Harry had allowed Louis to be the instigator, given that wasn't a part he was used to playing, but he was learning how to talk about what he wanted--and, especially, what he didn't want.

Louis tasted of beer. Beer and something that was quintessentially _Louis_. Harry couldn't have described it to anyone if he had been asked to, but it was addicting, and he wanted as much of it as he could get.

The kiss deepened pretty quickly, with lips being parted and tongues going exploring. Louis had learned to keep his hands on Harry's back and shoulders. Harry was learning how to be intimate with someone he truly cared for, someone who meant him no ill. Someone who wasn't forcing him to be there.

They had stuck to kisses since they had gotten physical with each other; Louis usually starting with a kiss to Harry's cheek or a chaste kiss to Harry's lips before going further. He knew Harry needed time, and Louis was happy to give him that.

Louis let Harry set the pace, and Harry was in the mood to kiss Louis thoroughly. So he did, the kiss moving from sweet to passionate to dirty in quick succession.

When they finally had to part for breath, Harry reached for the bottom of Louis's sweatshirt, tugging at it insistently. "Off," he whispered.

"You sure?" Louis checked, already snaking his hands down to the hem of his shirt.

With a nod, Harry eagerly helped Louis take his top off, then he unbuttoned his own shirt and shrugged out of it. Once they were similarly disrobed, they jointly dove in for another round of kissing.

Harry ran his hands up and down Louis' smooth back, revelling in the shifting muscles as Louis threw himself into the kiss. Louis kept his hands to Harry's arms, shoulders, and back, keeping his touch gentle.

It felt like he was on fire, but in a good way. He wanted to be a part of Louis, and for Louis to be a part of him. They belonged together. He knew it deep beneath his skin, in his bones, in his heart.

On one of his breaks for air, Harry couldn't help but notice the small letter H tattooed above Louis's heart. "What's this?" he asked, tracing the letter slowly.

"That's you," Louis answered softly. "I'm not a tattoo kind of guy, but I needed this one. I got it on the one-year anniversary of you being taken."

Harry ramped his kissing up even further, an action Louis clearly approved of.

After another minute or so, and with a low hum, Louis moved his lips from Harry's mouth and began placing butterfly-light kisses down Harry's neck and onto his shoulders. "That good?" he whispered, checking in, as he always did when trying something new.

"Mm-hm," Harry murmured back. "Really good."

One of Louis' hands left Harry's hip and worked its way to the waistband of Harry's jeans. Once there, he began to snake his hand in between the top of the jeans and Harry's stomach.

Harry immediately stiffened. He backed away, nearly falling off the couch in his haste.

"Oh my God, Harry," Louis said. "I'm so, so sorry. That was too much."

"Goddammit!" Harry yelled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Louis jump at the outburst.

Harry shot up off the couch. He paced from the couch to the far wall, then dropped to his knees somewhere between the two. He screamed in frustration, then let the floodgates open and allowed the hot tears to wash down his face. His sobs wracked his entire body, his breathing shattered. He covered his face with his hands, trying to shut everything out.

After a couple of minutes, he felt arms wrap him up from behind, holding him together. "Hey, there," came a whisper in his ear. "You're okay. I'm right here. I've got you."

It was incredibly hard to get his breathing under control. He had to struggle for each breath, his lungs burning. But Louis' tight embrace helped, grounding him, and he was eventually able to catch his breath and curb his tears, his sobs becoming quiet hiccoughs.

Louis continued to hold Harry until he stopped shaking. When Louis began to loosen his grip, however, Harry whispered, "No. Don't let go." Louis immediately regained his tight hold.

Harry hauled in a huge breath. It was shaky on the exhale, but it gave him enough energy to speak. He closed his eyes and began. "He came every night. I thought he would eventually get tired of it. Tired of me. But he never did. He only stopped when I was just about to give birth, then he started right back up again right after the babies were born. There were two babies. The first one died."

He could feel Louis' breath on the back of his neck, and he could feel the sharp intake as Harry shared the horrific things that had happened to him and made Louis the fourth person he'd told about the first baby.

"He liked to pretend I was his boyfriend, and he would make me act like I was," Harry went on. "He would make me give him handjobs and blowjobs. He usually topped, but occasionally he would make me top. He told me it was only polite to share."

Even though Harry paused, Louis stayed quiet, still holding him close.

"I didn’t even know what to do at the beginning," Harry stated. "He was more than happy to teach me. I don't even know what's normal and what were Ben's sick fantasies.

"What you did just then, it triggered a memory of…him," Harry explained. "I don't know how to stop the memories."

"It will take time." Louis' voice was a whisper.

"I hate him," Harry said, more vicious than he had ever been in his life. "I hate him with every fibre of my being. He's ruined me." Despite the fact that he had been sure he had no tears left, he started to cry again.

At this, Louis instantly let go of Harry and moved to face him, squatting low. He grabbed Harry's upper arms. Harry was so surprised by this switch that he opened his eyes for the first time since he'd started baring his soul. He met a blue gaze that was filled with nothing but love. "Listen to me, Harry. He did not ruin you. He doesn't have that kind of power. You are not ruined."

"How can you even say that when I reacted like I just did?" Harry asked, genuinely not understanding.

"I can say that because I love you," Louis answered.

Louis' words caused Harry's world to stop. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He shook his head. "You can't," he protested weakly.

"And yet," Louis countered, "I do. I love you. I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you since you were sixteen and I was eighteen."

Harry had to take a moment to regain his composure once more, getting his tears under control enough to confess, "I think I fell in love with you, too, back then."

"We can work through this together," Louis told him, his voice unwavering. "I don't care how long it takes."

"What if it takes months and months for us to have sex? Proper sex?" Harry questioned him bluntly.

"Then it takes months and months," Louis told him just as bluntly. "I know what you've been through, and I know it's not easy. We can go just as slow as you need to. We have all the time in the world. I think we'll get there, and I'm pretty sure it will be worth the wait, if the kisses are anything to go by."

Harry was not quite yet ready to lighten the conversation, but he did offer Louis the tiniest of smiles.

Louis dropped his hands to Harry's thighs and squeezed them gently before resituating himself to sit cross-legged right in front of him. When he was settled, he returned his hands to Harry's legs and waited to hear what Harry had left to say.

"It's not just about the time," Harry warned, forcing himself to look Louis in the eye. "I don't know if I can handle the idea of getting pregnant again, even if I know it would be completely different. If you choose me, you might not ever have children of your own."

Shrugging, Louis said, "I completely understand where you're coming from. Besides, you have Darcy. And, if you'll let me, I'll have her, too."

Harry paused for a moment before inquiring, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I've fallen in love with Darcy, too," Louis responded. "I would love nothing more than to consider her mine, just like I'd like to consider you mine and me yours. I choose you, however I can get you."

"I don't even understand how you can say that," Harry said incredulously.

"Then I'll be happy to spend as much time as you need showing you how," Louis vowed.

Harry had nothing to say to that. Instead, he closed his eyes, pulled in one deep breath, exhaled, and then pulled in another. After exhaling that breath, he opened his eyes and met Louis' gaze. "Well, that wasn't quite how this evening was supposed to go."

Louis shrugged. "There will be other evenings. What do you say we get up, get our shirts back on, and I'll tell Jesse I'm taking you home?"

"We can try this again another night soon?" Harry checked.

In one smooth move, Louis pushed himself back up to his feet and reached his hands down to Harry to help him up. "Absolutely. I'm counting on it."

* * *

True to his word, Louis kept things light. He involved Darcy in outings when she didn't have school, and he allowed Harry to dictate what they did--and didn't--do when they were alone. Harry continued to see Jordan twice a week. As memories resurfaced and Harry navigated the real world, he still had a lot to deal with.

One Direction started making their Manchester songwriting sessions with Harry a weekly thing. Eventually, he got brave enough to bring one of his journals to a session. He picked one of the less Louis-centric pieces he'd written in Room, and the band helped him come up with wonderful music to accompany it. He'd learned enough guitar from Niall to play a little of the tune himself.

Between the songwriting sessions and talking about the songwriting sessions with Jordan, Harry became more and more confident that he really wanted to give a songwriting career a shot. This meant really focusing on where he wanted to attempt to make that happen.

He was still trying to choose between Manchester and London. Each city had its pros and cons. Manchester would put him closer to his mum and Jordan. London would put him closer to Gemma and a bigger pool of opportunity. Jordan pointing out that they could do their sessions online finally tipped the scales in London's favour.

He broke the news to Louis one night when they were having a quiet dinner after some productive songwriting with the band; Niall, Liam, and Zayn had all headed out to partake in plans of their own.

As they sat down to plates of pasta they had picked up from a local Italian café to take back to Louis' flat, Harry announced, "So, I've made a decision."

Louis had a forkful of spaghetti halfway to his mouth. He paused, eyebrows raised, to say, "Oh?"

"I choose London." Harry watched Louis carefully for his reaction, which he expected to be a positive one.

Sure enough, a wide smile bloomed on Louis' face almost instantaneously. He put his bite back down on his plate temporarily. "Really?"

Harry nodded, smiling himself. Shrugging, he explained, "It just makes the most sense. There's more opportunity there than in Manchester. Gemma's there, it's your home base. I think that's where Darcy and I should go."

"I'd be just as happy to spend the majority of my time in Manchester, if you did want to stay here near your mum and Jordan," Louis reminded him.

Shaking his head, Harry said, "Jordan and I will talk online, and Mum will be down to visit all the time, especially with me, Darcy, and Gem all there. I need to be in London. That's where I'll have the best chance."

Louis lifted his bite of spaghetti and ate it before taking a sip of water and saying, "Then I guess the next question is, can I convince you to bring Darcy and move in with me?"

Just as Louis had, Harry used the length of time it took to eat a bite of his fettuccine to formulate a response. "I would love living with you," he stated, "but I think I need to do things on my own with Darcy for just a little while. I know we were on our own before, but I had no independence. I have that now."

Louis nodded. "I get it."

"Thanks for understanding," Harry told him. After another bite of pasta, he added, "Darcy and I will expect you to visit all the time."

"Oh, you won't be able to keep me away," Louis vowed. "You'll think I've moved in."

Harry laughed. "I'm pretty sure that might defeat the purpose of getting my own place."

"But are you going to kick me out?" Louis inquired, twirling spaghetti on his fork.

With a smile, Harry made his own vow. "Not a chance."

* * *

A weekend less than two weeks after making his decision found Harry, Darcy, and Louis travelling down to London to look at flats. Harry and Darcy stayed with Louis at his gorgeous London home. Harry nearly called off the search when he saw just how amazing Louis' house was, but then he remembered all the reasons he wanted his own flat.

The three of them got together with Gemma to spend the whole of Saturday looking at flats. In the middle of the day, they were shown one Harry thought might be the one. They spent the rest of Saturday and half of Sunday visiting all the buildings they had planned to see, but by midday Sunday, Harry wanted to go back to the flat from midday Saturday.

It was a lovely, cosy flat. It was the first floor of a four-storey townhouse that had been converted into flats. It had two reasonably-sized bedrooms, one whole and one half bathroom, a decent kitchen, a dining room, and a lounge they could be happy with. It was located about halfway between Gemma and Louis' places, near an Underground station. The rent was doable (Harry had decided to grant a few interviews--with reputable publications--and that would give him enough to cover the cost until he started making other money), and they could move in as soon as the summer holidays started. Harry signed the lease that day.

Between Anne, Gemma, and Louis, they were able to donate a good bit of furniture for Harry's flat, and Louis bought the rest, assuring Harry that he could well afford it and that Harry could consider it eight years' worth of birthday and Christmas gifts. Gemma and Louis took turns overseeing the delivery of these things in London while Harry stayed with Darcy in Holmes Chapel for the remaining few weeks of the school year.

Darcy cried on the last day of school, sad she would not see her friends every day, as she'd gotten used to doing. Harry promised her they'd be coming back to Holmes Chapel to visit, and he'd make sure she got to see all her friends when they did.

Harry and Darcy packed up the clothes and things they'd accumulated in their time at Anne's, and packed Anne's car the day after school ended. Anne then drove them down to London, telling Harry there was no way her baby was moving into his first place without her being there to help. He did not argue.

They stopped for lunch on the way--more pizza, Darcy's continued favourite--and arrived in London in the mid-afternoon. Gemma and Louis were both at the new flat waiting for them.

Darcy gasped as they walked through the front door, and Harry followed suit. The flat looked completely different from the empty space they'd looked at a few weeks prior. Anne smiled at their reaction as she brought up the rear. All three toed off their shoes, placing them next to Louis' trainers and Gemma's sandals. It was time to take in the flat. It was Louis who led them on a tour.

The kitchen looked to have all the basics, even a well-stocked fridge and pantry. The bedrooms both had beds and dressers. There was a small toybox full of toys in Darcy's bedroom, along with a couple of stuffed animals on her bed. The bathrooms had towels in them, and the small dining area had a round wooden table and four chairs in the middle of it. Their last stop was the lounge, which featured a blue sofa, two green easy chairs, and a coffee table.

As they walked through the flat, Harry was pretty sure he could pick out which touches were Gemma's and which were Louis'. There were family photos framed all around the house--that was down to Gemma. There was a nice TV set up in the lounge--that had to be courtesy of Louis. Books in Darcy's bedroom were definitely from Gemma, while Louis had surely provided the men's toiletries in the bathroom. Harry had asked Louis not to go too crazy; this place wasn't meant to be a forever home. He was glad to see Louis had followed his directive. Everything was perfect.

Louis, Gemma, and Anne stayed to help Harry and Darcy unpack, then they all shared a tea of sandwiches and crisps. Once they'd eaten, Harry made a request that he and Darcy have the rest of the evening alone to get settled and establish a bedtime routine.

"Are you sure?" Louis checked. "I'm happy to sleep on the couch. Keep you guys company."

"I'm sure," Harry assured him. "We'll be fine."

"You know I'm just a phone call away," Louis reminded him.

"Me, too," Gemma added.

"Me, three." Anne gave him a smile and a wink.

"Can you all come for breakfast in the morning?" Harry inquired, grinning back at his mum.

"Yes!" they all answered simultaneously.

"We'll see you then," Harry said.

After a round of hugs and kisses, Harry and Darcy were alone in a home for the first time since their last night in Room. It was an incredibly odd, yet also familiar feeling.

After helping Darcy with a bath and a change into a nightgown, Harry retrieved a couple of the books Gemma had put in Darcy's bedroom, then he and Darcy settled on their comfy blue couch to read. It still felt like a treat to have new books to read, given that for so long, they had had to reread the same few books Ben had brought them.

By the time they finished the last book, Darcy's eyes were drooping, so Harry set the book down and stood to pick her up. Drowsily, she rested her head on his shoulder. Darcy balked, though, when Harry went to try to settle her in the bed in her bedroom.

"No, Papa," she insisted. "I want to sleep with you."

"But, Darcy," Harry argued, "you could have this whole bed to yourself. And, look, Auntie Gemma got you a beautiful pink duvet. Feel it. It's so soft!" He ran a hand over the pale pink duvet he knew Gemma had chosen very carefully.

Darcy shook her head. "I don't want to feel it."

"Darcy, I'll be right next door. You can call me if you need anything," he told her.

Apparently, this was not at all comforting. Darcy began to cry. "Please, Papa. Please, I want to sleep with you."

Harry sighed. He had not expected this at all. Darcy had confidently gone to school on her own every day, she had had no problem being in a different room from Harry at Anne's, and she'd been willing to let Harry put her down at night and leave her alone until he came to bed later. Perhaps the new setting was throwing her off, and she needed time. He could certainly relate to that.

Sitting down on the edge of her bed, Harry pulled Darcy into his lap. "Okay, bug. You can sleep in my bed. I'm kind of tired, too, so why don't we both try to get some sleep?"

Darcy nodded, letting Harry use a tissue to dry her tears. She trailed him, then, as he brushed his teeth and changed into some pyjama bottoms. It wasn't long before they were climbing under the navy blue duvet that had been chosen for Harry's room. Harry turned off the light, and the room was bathed in soothing moonlight.

Darcy immediately snuggled right up next to him, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, pulling the duvet up around them.

"Papa?" Darcy's little voice was soft and sleepy.

"What, bug?"

"Who will come tomorrow to unlock the door?" she asked.

"Unlock the door?" Harry repeated, confused.

"Ben's in jail, so who will come to unlock the door?" Darcy clarified.

Harry's confusion began to clear. "Darcy, honey, do you think we're locked in here, like in Room?"

Darcy nodded. "We left Granny's. It's just you and me, and all the things we shared in Room. Although I didn't have my own bed there. I don't know why I have one here. I share with you."

After moving to turn the light back on, Harry sat up in the bed and pulled her up with him so she would really get what he was saying. "Darcy, we are not locked in here. Come with me."

Harry climbed out of bed, and Darcy followed him. He walked her right to the front door. He unlocked and opened it. Darcy gasped as he did so.

"There's no code?" she questioned, absolutely incredulous.

"No code," Harry confirmed. "We can leave any time we want. There's no one keeping us here."

"Are you sure, Papa?" Darcy's incredulity took a turn for the sceptical.

"I'm positive," he told her. "Here. I'll prove it. Let's go get me a shirt and you a dressing gown."

Five minutes later, they were back at the front door. Harry had grabbed his wallet and gotten a sweatshirt on, and Darcy had put on her dressing gown--a fluffy grey number covered in white hearts and given to her by her Granny--and a pair of slippers. Harry slipped on his trainers, then flung open the door again.

"Come on," he urged, pushing Darcy a little bit ahead of him and out the door. He closed and locked it behind them, then led the way to the front door of the building, opening it, then locking it behind them, too.

It was not all that late. The sun had only recently set, and the weather was fine; there were plenty of people walking around. Harry didn't remember much that was nearby; he was looking forward to getting to know the neighbourhood. He did, however, think he remembered one place that was just a block and a half away.

"Let's go this way," Harry suggested, pointing to the right. Taking Darcy's hand in his own, he started to walk.

"Where are we going, Papa?" Darcy wondered aloud, moving a little closer to Harry as a big dog walked by. She had gotten used to the cats Anne had once they moved back into the house, but real dogs were a little scarier than the ones in her head.

Harry grinned down at her. "You'll see." Inwardly, he hoped he'd remembered correctly what was just down the road.

After they crossed the street, he could see the sign he was hoping for, and he sighed with relief. Soon enough, they arrived at the Starbucks.

"Here we are," he announced.

"Are we getting coffee?" Darcy inquired, puzzled, looking through the windows at all the people carrying hot cups.

Harry shook his head. "Nope. Hot chocolate. Just like some nights at Granny's. A perfect drink before bed."

Darcy's smile grew slowly. "Yay!"

The line wasn't long, and about five minutes later, Harry and Darcy were walking back toward their flat, steaming cups of hot chocolate in their hands, Darcy's small and Harry's a little bit bigger.

They didn't go right inside when they arrived back at their building. Instead, Harry sat on the top of the front steps, Darcy right next to him. They sipped at their drinks in the warm evening air.

"So, you see we're not locked in?" Harry checked with Darcy.

She nodded.

"That is never going to happen to us again," Harry swore. "We get to come and go as we please."

"Ben is never going to visit?" Darcy confirmed her understanding of the situation.

"Nope," Harry assured her. "He's in jail and if the judge gets it right, he'll be there a very long time."

"But Granny, Auntie Gemma, and Louis will visit," she went on.

"They'll be here first thing in the morning for breakfast." Harry took a long sip of hot cocoa. It wasn't as good as his mum's, but it would do for tonight.

Father and daughter sat on the stairs watching their neighbours come and go on the sidewalk below them until their cups were empty and the night air was starting to get a little nip in it.

"Ready for bed now?" Harry asked Darcy.

She yawned widely before answering him with a question. "I'm still sleeping in your bed, right?"

Harry chuckled. "Sure. That's fine."

It seemed baby steps were called for. And baby steps were just fine.

* * *

They were barely settled in London when it was time for Harry and Darcy--along with Louis, Gemma and Michal--to travel back up to Manchester. Des would be driving in from his place in Liverpool to join them. Ben Morgan's sentencing hearing was set to take place.

Harry had been given a choice. Charlie had gotten the court to agree that Harry could read his victim statement on camera and have the video played in court. If Harry went this route, he wouldn't have to be in the same room as Ben. Conversely, Harry could read the statement in person in the court room. Ben would be present, and that might give Harry some much-needed closure.

He had discussed the choices with his mother, his sister, and, of course, Louis. None of them felt confident giving him advice beyond doing what he was most comfortable with. All of them told him they would be there with him whatever he decided. Anne, in fact, had completed her statement, too, and said she would read hers in whatever setting Harry picked.

When he spoke to Jordan about it, she, too, told him to follow his heart and do what he felt was right. She was certain absolutely no one would judge him for whatever he chose.

Left to figure out what he wanted to do on his own, Harry spent some time imagining both scenarios. In the end, he decided to he wanted to read his statement in open court. He wanted Ben to see Harry wasn't afraid of him. More importantly, he knew he'd regret it if he didn't give the statement in person.

In a show of solidarity, Des, Gemma, and Louis accompanied him to court, along with Anne, who was also speaking; Michal stayed with Darcy at Anne's.

They all sat in a row behind the prosecution lawyers. Harry was dressed in a dark blue suit. It was new and not exceptionally comfy, but he had wanted to look his best for this very important moment.

Ben was brought in just before the judge entered the court room. He was dressed in an orange jump suit, and though Harry steadfastly watched him, Ben refused to make eye contact. Once Ben was seated, Harry glanced at his family and Louis. All regarded Ben with disgust.

After the judge was sat at his bench, the charges against Ben were read. They included kidnapping and multiple charges of rape and sexual assault. The judge asked Ben how he pled. Ben and his lawyer stood, and Ben pleaded guilty.

It was at this point that the prosecution announced that there were two victim statements to be read. The first would be Harry's.

Harry hauled in a deep breath as Louis squeezed his hand supportively, whispering, "You can do this."

After another deep breath, Harry stood, straightened his jacket, and headed for the lectern. It was time to end a chapter.

"My name is Harry Styles. On the thirtieth of July in 2010, my life was changed forever. I was walking through my hometown of Holmes Chapel when a man approached me. He asked for help with his sick dog, and, wanting to be kind, I went with him to his truck.

"The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a shed. It measured twelve by twelve, and contained a bed, a bathtub, a toilet, a TV, a small kitchen, and a wardrobe. I quickly realised that the man who had taken me meant to keep me in this shed indefinitely. Less than twenty-four hours later, he sexually assaulted me for the first time. The pattern of my days developed quickly. I was left alone all day, then my captor would come at night to rape me.

"That man was Ben Morgan.

"I was held captive for seven years, seven months, two weeks and one day. In that time, I was raped almost daily. I was impregnated twice. I was forced to go through two full-term pregnancies with no medical care. I lost the first baby and gave birth to my daughter, Darcy, less than two years later. I was seventeen when I got pregnant the first time, and eighteen the second. I had no idea how I was supposed to take care of a baby, and Ben offered zero support beyond bringing me diapers, food, and clothes for the baby.

"My nights were never any different. No matter the circumstances, Ben still came to rape me nearly every night--even when I was pregnant. Once Darcy was born, my days changed. All of a sudden, I had a tiny baby to take care of. I learned some of what I needed to do from one book Ben brought me. The rest I learned from my gut.

"Thankfully, my instinct served me well, as Darcy grew up as healthy and normal as a child raised in a twelve-by-twelve shed could be.

"When Ben stole me, I was a contestant on _The X-Factor_. I had made it through the initial auditions and Boot Camp. At Boot Camp, I was put in a band with four other boys, and the next step was Judges' Houses. The five of us had planned to get together at my step-father's bungalow so we could get to know each other and practice singing together.

"On the day I was taken, I was getting things ready for the other boys to visit. Of course, I never made that get-together.

"The list of things Ben took from me is long. The one everyone not in my inner circle seems to focus on is my virginity, and that's true, but there's so much more.

"He took away my family, he took away my friends. The four boys I was put into a band with went on to become an internationally successful boy band, One Direction. Ben took away my chance to be a part of that. It was a chance I had earned.

"Ben took my right to choose when I have children and who I have those children with. I could go on and on.

"He took from Darcy, too. He took away time from her grandparents and her aunt. In fact, one of her grandparents, my step-father, Robin, passed away while I was imprisoned, so Darcy missed out on meeting him. I missed the last two years I could have spent with Robin before he passed.

"He took Darcy's chance to know the real world. Her chance to make friends and play outside in the fresh air. Her chance to explore nature and experience animals and flowers and rain showers, all of the things which help a child get to know the world around them.

"Despite all of that being taken from her, Darcy was brave enough to go along with my plan to escape. She allowed me to roll her up in a rug and listened as I lied to Ben about her being dead. When he took her out to his truck, she managed to wiggle out of the rug and find a person to ask for help. She saved me.

"Since I've been out of the shed, I've suffered through nightmares, indecision about what to do with myself, and rebuilding relationships with people who thought I was dead.

"Ben took a lot from me. He took many things I will simply never get back. But he didn't beat me. He didn't win.

"My step-father died thinking I was gone forever, but my relationship with my mum and my dad is rock solid, just like my relationship with my sister. They've embraced Darcy and showered her with love and affection, and they're helping me teach her about the world.

"Darcy is in school and she's doing so well. She has friends, and she plays outdoors, and I'm trying to make sure she's catching up on all the experiences she didn't get during her first five years.

"I've reconnected with the boys in the band, and I'm doing some songwriting with them. I don't know where that will take me, but I'm looking forward to finding out, and it's been a long time since I've had something to truly look forward to.

"Finally, I am at the start of a new relationship with Louis, one of the boys in the band. He's been patient and kind as I work through what it means to be with someone. Someone who doesn't just want me for one thing. Someone who doesn't try to overpower me every chance he gets. Someone who genuinely likes me and wants what's best for me.

"It isn't easy. I'm still working with a therapist, and the trauma I endured will be with me for the rest of my life, even if I can move past it and have a real life. I will always be the boy who was stolen.

"Ben deserves the harshest sentence you can give him. He deserves to know what it's like to live in a small cell year after year after year. He deserves to lose his job, his house, everything he knows. It's the least he can suffer after everything he did.

"Thank you."

As he took his seat so he could listen to his mother read her statement, Louis took his hand and squeezed it. Harry squeezed back.

Once Anne was done, the judge wasted no time. He sentenced Ben to life in prison.

After the judge rendered his verdict, Harry breathed a sigh of relief and met Louis' gaze. Louis smiled back at him.

Finally, at last, it was time to begin a new chapter in his story.

* * *

At the beginning of September, Darcy entered her new school like a pro. It helped that she got a little preview the week before school began. Harry had spent some time with the headmaster, along with a Reception and Year One teacher, and described where Darcy was, both academically and socially--as well as where she'd come from--and they'd decided that having her start Year One made the most sense. By the time it was the first day of school, she was ready to go.

Once Darcy was back in school, Louis helped set up some meetings for Harry with songwriters he knew. Harry was wildly nervous about writing with people who weren't members of One Direction. The first time did not go well, with his nerves all over the place. Fortunately, that writer, Julian Bunetta, was willing to try a second time, and that time went a little better, then the third time went even better. The best part was--outside of the initial introduction by Louis--he was getting it together all by himself. He knew he had a long road ahead getting himself established, but getting a start was great.

In the middle of September came some wonderful news and an anniversary. The news was that One Direction was officially going to record not one, but two of the songs Harry had written with the band. Even better, they invited Harry to come sing on the recordings. At first, he demurred, claiming he had no right to sing with them; he wasn't part of the band. Louis (along with Niall) worked on him, though, and eventually he agreed to do it. Harry looked forward to doing more in the recording studio than just writing.

The anniversary was Six Months Post-Escape. Louis invited Harry and Darcy to his place to celebrate, bringing in several different pizzas for them to share.

Darcy stuck to plain cheese pizza, while Harry and Louis dug into pizzas with different meats and vegetables. It seemed fitting to celebrate the occasion with the real world food Darcy liked best.

As they ate, Louis asked Darcy about school.

"Do you like your teacher?" he began.

She nodded. "She's really nice. She said I'm very clever."

"You are," Louis confirmed, taking a sip of his water. "What subject do you like best?"

Darcy chewed her bite of pizza thoughtfully. After swallowing, she answered, "Reading and music."

"Music?" Louis repeated. "Is there another musician in the family?" He met Harry's gaze over their slices of pizza and smiled.

"She likes to sing," Harry reported. "She's pretty good, too."

"Your papa is going to sing on two of One Direction's songs," Louis told Darcy.

The little girl's eyes grew wide. "He is?"

While Harry blushed, Louis nodded vigorously. "He is. He wrote two songs with us, and we've invited him to sing with us. He didn't want to do it at first, but Niall and I talked him into it."

"When do you get to sing?" Darcy inquired of Harry.

"Sometime soon," Harry replied. "Maybe you can come watch. I suspect an afternoon off school won't hurt you."

"Yay!" Darcy cheered, throwing her hands up over her head and making both Harry and Louis laugh.

"Maybe we can even find a job for you at the studio," Louis suggested, winking at Darcy.

Through her next bite of pizza, she asked, "Did you hear, Papa? Louis may find a job for me when you go recording."

"I heard," Harry confirmed, grinning at her. He could imagine her doing wonderful things with a tambourine.

"Why don't we finish our pizza, then we can find a movie to watch," Louis proposed. They still had many, many films to catch up on, so there would be plenty to choose from.

Darcy and Harry were equally on board with that plan, and they were soon nestled on the couch, Darcy snuggled in between Harry and Louis.

Before he picked up the remote to begin a movie search, Louis announced, "I almost forgot! Lottie's bringing Doris and Ernie down this weekend. You up for a playdate, Darcy?"

"Yes!" she responded enthusiastically. She had met Louis' youngest siblings a few times, and they had all got on beautifully together. She looked up at Louis to add, "I have a playdate next week with a friend from school."

"Oh? That's awesome. The school year's only a few weeks old, and you already have a friend good enough for a playdate?" Louis smiled over Darcy's head at Harry.

Darcy nodded. "Her name's Jossy. She has two mummies. I didn't know someone could have two mummies."

Harry's eyes went wide. He hadn't known Jossy had two mums. He'd just talked to the one on the phone about her daughter coming over one day the following week. "She does?" he questioned her.

"She calls one Mum and the other Mumma," Darcy explained. "Can someone have two daddies, too?"

Harry had figured this was a conversation he would need to have with Darcy eventually, but here, on Louis' couch, was not the most ideal place. That said, he knew he needed to set her straight--so to speak. He looked over at Louis, and Louis gave him an encouraging look, silently letting Harry know he had this.

After clearing his throat, Harry told her, "There are lots of different kinds of families. Some, like Jossy's, have two mummies. Some have two daddies. Some have a mummy and a daddy. And some have just one mummy or one daddy."

Darcy's brow wrinkled as she took in this information. "I only have one papa," she said.

He was not going to even get into her other father. He was completely irrelevant. All Harry said next was, "What makes a family a family is loving each other.

"Like you love me," Darcy concluded. "And I love you."

"Like I love you and you love me," he agreed, squeezing her shoulder. "Exactly. That makes us a family."

Once more, Darcy took a moment to process what she'd learned. Then she had another query. "Can someone get a new mum or dad?"

Harry nodded. "Sure. Grampa Robin was as much my dad as Grampa Des. And Louis has another dad, too. Sometimes, you get lucky enough to get another mum or another dad even if you're older. More people to love."

Darcy quieted again, obviously thinking hard. She looked from Harry to Louis, then from Louis to Harry, and finally back to Louis. "Could you be my other dad?"

The question hung in the air as Harry looked at Louis with apology and Louis looked at Harry with surprise. Harry had not expected this line of questioning, nor did he want to put Louis on the spot. He mouthed "I'm sorry," but Louis shook his head, indicating it was okay.

Turning his attention back to Darcy, Harry said, "Bug, that's a big thing to ask of someone."

"But he loves me, and I love him," Darcy countered.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Louis beat him to it. "Well, you're right about that, Darcy. I do love you."

Darcy shot Harry an I-told-you-so look, then looked back to Louis.

Louis wasn't done. "I would love nothing more than to be your other father. But I have to ask your papa something first."

Somewhere in the last couple of minutes, Harry had lost the plot. He had no idea what was going on. He watched, confused, as Louis popped up off the couch and fairly ran toward the stairwell, disappearing as he ran upstairs.

"Where's he going, Papa?" Darcy wondered aloud.

"I don't know, bug," Harry said, shrugging.

"Are we still watching a movie?" she wanted to know.

"I think so," he answered, craning his head around to see if he could spot Louis returning.

It did not take long. Louis came rushing back down the stairs, taking a seat on the coffee table directly across from Harry.

He cleared his throat nervously before he said, "I was trying to figure out when was the right time to do this. I guess this is it."

Harry felt those familiar butterflies in his stomach at Louis' words.

Louis pulled a small black box from the pocket of his joggers. "I should probably be dressed better for this," he joked, "but whatever. Here goes."

"What are you doing, Louis?" Harry asked, leaning forward, just as anxious as Louis looked.

Louis cleared his throat again and met Harry's gaze with one of faith. "Harry, I have been in love with you since we met at Boot Camp. I missed you every day you were gone, and I have never been happier than I was the moment I heard you were back.

"I have loved reconnecting with you and getting to know Darcy. I want to be here for you in your joy at getting to get on with your life, and I want you to lean on me through your heartache as you deal with all you've been through. And I want to do all of that for the rest of my life."

With a deep breath, Louis opened the box, revealing a silver band with an intricate design all around it and tiny diamonds around the edges. "Harry Styles, will you marry me?"

Harry gasped and covered his mouth with his hand. Next to him, Darcy gasped, too. All he could do was stare at the ring.

"Harry? Say something?" Louis requested softly.

It took a second more to find his voice, but when he did, Harry found the answer was easy. "Yes," he replied, nodding. "Yes."

Louis was beaming when he shifted his gaze to Darcy. "And I would be honoured if you would be my daughter." He reached back into his pocket and pulled out a small black bag. He set Harry's ring box down on the coffee table long enough to open the small bag to reveal a miniature version of Harry's ring. He held the ring up to Darcy. "Do you still want me as your other dad?"

Darcy nodded wildly. "I do! I do!"

Chuckling at her excitement, Louis reached for Darcy's hand and slipped the ring onto her middle finger.

Darcy immediately lifted it up for Harry to see. "Look, Papa!"

"I see, bug. It's beautiful," Harry complimented.

Louis picked the ring box back up. "Your turn," he told Harry.

Harry held out his left hand, and Louis slid the ring onto Harry's ring finger. It fit like a glove.

"This is a promise," Louis went on. "We don't have to do anything in a rush."

"Okay," Harry returned, still staring at the ring on his finger.

"I just wanted to officially take you off the market." Louis grinned at him.

Harry chuckled. "Fair enough."

"I love you," Louis whispered.

"I love you, too," Harry whispered back, moving in close for a quick kiss.

"Now can we watch a movie?" Darcy piped up as the kiss came to an end.

Harry and Louis laughed as they straightened up.

While Louis reclaimed his spot on the couch, Harry nodded. "Yes, Darcy. Now we can watch a movie."

Six months before, Harry could not have imagined his life being what it was now or that the dreams he had barely allowed himself to dream were coming true. He knew he still had a lot to work through, and not every day would be good. But every day he and Darcy would have Louis. And every day, they would be free.

And that was all that mattered.

End (23 March 2020)


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